HeartShy
by SinnamonGirl
Summary: In this AU story, Dee and Ryo are Keepers intergalactic cops who police planets and keep peace between the human and alien populations. However, neither man is exactly what he seems... Follows the Fake canon with slight AU alterations. Introspective, 1st
1. Chapter 1

HeartShy

SinnamonGirl

Disclaimer: Fake and it's characters belong to Sanami Matoh.

Summary: In this AU story, Dee and Ryo are Keepers - intergalactic cops who police planets and keep peace between the human and alien populations. However, neither man is exactly what he seems... Follows the Fake canon with slight AU alterations. Introspective, 1st person Ryo, 1st person Dee, 3rd person description every once in awhile.

Okay folks... I had the idea for this awhile ago, and it's been really fun to work on, but I'm sort of hesitant to post it. It's sort of a strange sci-fi/ fantasy story, but it will follow the manga pretty tightly (except for chapter 2, which is the obligatory sexy chapter)! In this "version" of Fake - Ryo is half-alien, while Dee is a magic user (he can heal). Bikky and Carol make appearances too, with quirks of their own! Anyway, I apologize because this first part is kind of slow (introductions and all). Any insight, criticism, or comments you'd like to offer would be highly appreciated. Also, I have a map of the area the story will be taking place; if you'd like to see it drop me an email!

Afterimage (a band that's mentioned later) is taken from one of my original works Anthem - and is based on the real band Rush. The quoted song is "Presto" from the album of the same name - copyright Neil Peart, Alex Lifeson, and Geddy Lee.

**NARRATION**

Dee Lyghtner's feet dragged against the sparkling stone of the alien street. Beyond the traffic, the patrol station wavered, mirage-like and impossibly distant to his tired eyes. Built of glass and steel, the station's four story frame relied heavily on the architectural style of Earth. Having never lived on the so called home-planet. Dee felt no rush of sentimentality. He preferred the building's ornamentation, which paid tribute to the planet Rhekia (well, that was the best pronunciation human tongues could manage). The curling accents and colored glass engaged the mind's eye playfully and the colors, the sense of upbeat pizzazz, were an absolute affront to the expensive austerity of Glass Court. Dee stared a moment longer, admiring the purple stone of the hillside that embraced the building on both sides and jutted out over the docking bay. In the new light the stone seemed electrically charged and near translucent; lilac and hyacinth puddles formed on the starry streets. Shaking himself a little, Dee set off for the 13-&-6.

No welcome morning hush greeted him as he passed through the keyhole shape of the station door. As far as the building was concerned, time was not just relative - it was arbitrary. True enough, Rhekia's pearl-drop moons were settling to sleep somewhere beyond the dusky horizon, closing lazy lunar eyes after a night of flirtation, but the station never slept. Praying the permission to collapse was forthcoming, Dee shuffled through the receiving area, a white haze burning behind his eyes. The heavy office door resisted his sluggish gait, clipping his shoulder and his gun as he passed through.

"LYGHTNER!"

Dee froze in the center of the anteroom and threw his hands over his head. After a moment, he cautiously worked one eye open to survey the room. Happily, it showed no signs of collapsing around his ears. Just as he was about to heave a sigh of relief, an insistent hand wrapped itself in his collar and hauled him toward the Commander's office.

Dee looked down at his petite assailant. "But Gwen," he protested, trying to anchor himself. "I just got back offa' fourteen hour shift. Have a little pity, sweetness."

For a tiny woman, Gwen Ieves was as tough and no-nonsense as they came. Smiling at him with a porcelain doll's unwavering cheer, she shook her head. "And have old Brushface chew on my rump instead? No thanks. Besides, with the company you keep, no one will notice a couple of new marks on you. Now scoot!" Before he could ask what she'd meant by that 'company you keep' comment, she leaned close conspiratorially. "He's got a real cutie in there, Dee. Be an angel and find out if he sleeps alone, would you?"

"What do I get out of it?"

"I'll clean up your file a little bit, huh?"

He smiled his agreement and proceeded in, only rolling his eyes once Gwen was out of sight. She has the worst taste in men - after all, she'd never hit on him.

"Lyghtner, where the hell have you been?"

Sensing that his charms were dulled somewhat by a night spent pitted against New Abode city's various flavors of darkness, he merely slid his reports across the desk. Commander Russelford eyed the file with blatant mistrust. "Dee if there's one, even one, picture of your ass in there, so help me,"

Dee choked down a laugh, but failed at holding onto a contrite expression. It had been Dragen's ass, actually, but he lacked Dee's absolute fearlessness in the face of authority and his uncanny ability to get himself out of trouble once he'd decided he was far enough in.

"Sir, I was just trying to help you fill in these white spaces." He indicated the office walls. "So drab. Really not a productive work environment." He perched on the edge of his superior's desk, pretending not to notice the stark veins purpling in the Commander's forehead. Just as the older man was about to charge forward in a rage and land his insubordinate employee on the floor, Dee flitted across the room, oblivious and hyperactive as a hummingbird.

Seeing his prey retreating (a little) Russelford swept the report aside. He knew better than to hope that Dee had completed his paperwork correctly. Neither the "aliens" his officers patrolled nor the birth of magic into the human race much unsettled the Commander, but Dee Lyghtner successfully completing a report - that would have been a miracle! One of his main reasons for keeping Gwen Ieves employed was that she could bring order to the chaos that was Dee's writing; he kept Dee employed, despite his faults, because he was a damn good Keeper. Grudgingly he thought, _You can't take that from him, anyway_.

Suddenly, it occurred to the Commander: Dee worked alone. Of all the Keepers in the station, he was one of the few on regular duty who didn't have a partner. _Let someone else nag and pressure him to do his work and get here on time! Someone by-the-book who won't be able to stand Lyghtner's corner-cutting, lollygagging ways. _The man he had in mind had even saluted him upon introduction, and not those half-assed, sarcastic waves his men gave either. He almost hadn't know how to respond. _Pairing him up with Lyghtner is almost cruel - to both of them! This should be interesting…_

"Lyghtner, meet your new partner Randor Clarion."

**DEE**

"New partner?" I splutter. I work alone. Everybody knows that. I've _never_ had a partner…

So he's another officer, huh? Even though I acted like I didn't notice him, I was playing it up for him the whole time. I can't resist an audience, and I wanted to see his reaction. I got a widening of the eyes for my trouble, a few lines of stress around the mouth, but no smile. Hmph. No sense of humor? In _my_ partner?

But then it got real different real fast when he shook my hand. I guess I should lay it out real easy for you. I like girls _and_ guys. Given my position - this planet-hoppin', trigger happy, trail chasin' job, I've learned to take companionship the same as food and sleep and cigarettes - when it's available. That said, I don't think I've ever wanted someone like this, and I don't think it's just proximity.

He's… what? There should be words for a face that looks like that. I'd have to reach back and really pull for them, he deserves more than the usual everyday descriptions that get kicked around, deserves more than "hot." All those years ago, the priestess gave me words, tried to anyway. I was always running from the sound of her voice out into the street, that flashing and deadly playground. I thought the words were beautiful, but everyone said they weren't for me, wouldn't get me anywhere, street-bred as I was. I never learned to make them mine. She only really got through to me when I was too sick to roam beyond the sound of her voice, her prayers. It was the same at the Academy - I loved the bard's tales best, the romances, stories of past Keepers and the deeds they'd done.

Patrician. That's it on the nose. Like he has blood going back and back in time. But he's a Keeper, too, part of the interplanetary police force. What a mix-up. A face you'd expect to see staring out of a painting on a castle wall and a weapon that can probably punch holes through time itself; it's hard to put together. So he's probably got a pedigree. I gotta admit that that makes me bristle a little. People with any sense of a past rarely take to people like me. Years ago I might have haunted the alleys of whatever respectable street he lived on.

I lean in a little to study him. Just shy of noble, his face is all high cheekbones and a strong jaw, and all in Oriental porcelain. I'll bet he blushes pretty. Honey blond hair hangs down almost to his eyes, but not a piece is mussed, its probably styled into place. I didn't think I _liked_ blonds. Still, for all the gold and ivory and softness, he's not feminine either, not all over. He's slim, yeah, but I'd bet on strength and speed when he's put in motion - you have to be able to hold your own in a job like this.

His clothes don't hint at much. His waist is lean, outlined by the tucked in shirt - I bet I could half circle it with my hands. I want to think that he dressed up for his first day, but something tells me he always looks like that. Collar perfectly pressed, matching tie, shined dress shoes, even! All that's just trappings though. The real touch is him. Just him.

Processing him head to foot should only take the few seconds that his warm and living skin is touching mine, but I step forward and get too damn close. Without even knowing it, he snags me with a thorn I overlooked at first glance. I never used to like to bleed.

His eyes. Damn his eyes. God, his eyes.

Lilac. Deep peach liqueur. And black. His eyebrows arch fearfully, probably at the way I'm looking at him. I wonder if he notices that I've stopped breathing. The endless, swallowing circle of his eyes takes me under. I don't even fight it. I'm done for. There's no endplace to this labyrinth I've stumbled into, it all comes back on itself, back to the colors shining on my face like light through the stained glass windows of some sacred place. Right then, as his gaze sweeps over and through me like searchlight beams, I want to lay my life down at his toes in hopes that it will be enough. 

**RHYOH **

The Commander didn't even know I was coming in today.

"Yeah, yeah," he said when I explained my presence. "I remember reading something about a transfer - that today?" And now he has a partner picked out for me? Him?

I hear myself greeting him from somewhere far away. He seems as surprised as I am. He shakes my hand firmly, but then leans in a little until he's an uncomfortable two inches away from my face. Something about him pushes and pulls at me at once - magnetic, electrical, and overpowering - and I want very badly to look somewhere else. To be assigned somewhere else.

His eyes move over my body knowing, assessing, measuring, and my skin goes all glass slippers and plastic wrap. Then his eyes lift, and meet mine. His eyes… Did I just gasp? I hope not… His eyes, they're, well I guess most people would call them emerald, but I think that would be an insult somehow. Their color plays off of and takes something from the olive of his skin and the nightshade mess of his hair, and I find that I can't look away. The color is so startling that I find myself having to describe it, trying to understand and neutralize it by naming it, trying to undermine its power by making associations. It's moss after rain has filled the creek beds, but there's more than just the surface green. That's why emerald doesn't work. There are flecks of gold too, hidden like treasure. The green washes in and out over the cache, an ebb tide. A thesaurus thumps open in my mind: verdant on olive, olive on jade, jade on emerald, a flaring cat's eye, seaweed with a salt tang scent, a splash of kiwi, lime.

Then all of a sudden I'm flushed, blushing. Me, Randor Clarion putting words to the color of another man's eyes? But for all that rational, questioning, warning voice saying Danger - Danger - Danger - I still can't turn my own eyes away. He seems intent on riddling them out and their strange trinity of color embarrasses me as it has a thousand times before. He's looking for an answer, trying to make something of me, looking out from under those midnight locks. Except, his hair's not just black - there are purple highlights mixed in with the darkness, shocking because you don't notice them at first. His face is sharp, full of cutting angles. Even his eyebrows are pointed like crows wings suspended in a scissoring wing beat.

His consuming eyes are too lush, too full of life. He reminds me of a jungle cat crouched under a dark overhang of foliage, deceptively petable in its resemblance to the house version. There's something so predatory about him. Maybe it's in the line of his mouth, that challenging grin that promises to figure me out.

I shake my head to reengage what I know is my rational mind. Promise? Out of him? Not likely. His clothes don't even match! His shirt, rumpled, likely slept in, is the pale blue of ice, a jarring color when taken with the unruly mass of his hair, those onyx bangs jutting toward his eyes. I should cut him some slack since it sounds like he's been working all night, but he's unsettled me now.

His shirt is unbuttoned to the second button, showing his collarbone. His tie hangs loose around his neck, a too-dark blue for the shirt with a jagged white design burning through it like flame. Carried in a shoulder holster, his gun shines, deadly and obvious. Unlike some Keepers, he doesn't carry it like an accessory or a decoration - he's a handsbreath from lethal all the time. His jacket isn't standard either but the staggering colors, dandelion gold and navy blue, suit him. Still I wouldn't want someone looking like that - like my new partner - questioning a witness. How could they take him seriously?

The air I get from him is brash, cocky, confident, devil-may-care, obnoxious, and in your face. But then he smiles. And he's smiling at me gently as if to negate everything I've thought, seen, or perceived so far. He's smiling like a friend who's been waiting for me - just me - and my hand burns faintly, marked, even after he draws away.

**DEE**

Ha ha! I can let go! Finally! And now I gotta get outta this situation, gotta play it off. I feel like I've been swimming in those otherworldly eyes for days. It must not have lasted too long though, the Commander doesn't look anymore impatient than usual. Commander! Perfect!

"Sir, do I have to?" I see shock touch my would-be partner's face. Though he was definitely put off by the sight of me, he can't conceive of me rejecting him. "I'm no good at babysitting." Ooh, he's fun to rile. His jaw tightens under the skin, but he's holding back, holding it in. For all that I think he's wound too tight, I have to admire his restraint - I certainly don't have any. He must be one of those show-no-emotion types who like you to think they've been extracted from a glacier, veins full of mercury and sea ice.

Uh-oh, the Commander's giving me _that_ look again, the one with daggers and shrapnel in it. "You'll be doing circuit in the interior." He thrusts the file into my hands. "I'll expect you in The Black Lands in three days. And that doesn't mean midnight of the third day either, Lyghtner."

To the newbie he says, "Keep him on the straight and narrow. Though 'straight' might be asking too much…"

Whoa, did Brushface just make a joke at the expense of my sexuality? If I wasn't so shocked at this whole new-partner thing I definitely would have threatened suit about it. Ah well. Another time.

As we walk out of the office together, him lengthening his stride so that his legs flash right along with mine, he turns those eyes on me again. "I really didn't appreciate that babysitting comment, Detective Lyghtner."

I stop right there. So there is mettle under that soft exterior - good. "Aw, sorry about that man." I sling an arm over his shoulder just to see him duck out from under it. "Any Keeper'd say it if he got a new recruit assigned to him. I was just teasing." Some of the tension disappears from him and he's answering my smile with one of his own. "And call me Dee, huh? We're partners after all." Something in me is just crowing about that. A fourteen hour shift, no break in sight, reassignment to the damn interior, and I'm still in a good mood.

"All right, Dee. You can call me Randor."

I shake my head, amused. "That's not your real name. Or you have a nickname that you prefer."

His mouth's open in a sweet little O and I try not to think of taking advantage of such an opening. "H-how did you know that?"

I shrug. "Keeper with investigation duty. I pay attention. Your voice changed when you said your name, and you barely responded to the chief saying it. So what's the other name?"

"R-Rhyoh."

"Rhyoh," I test the name out on my tongue and find that I like having it in my mouth.

"It's an odd sort of name, I know," he says, tone almost apologetic. "It's what my mom called me."

Called, not calls… Even though I want to know everything about him, I don't press yet. "Interior, huh?" I muse. "How do you want to handle that?"

"I'd like to go as soon as possible, take some time to scout out the area."

I just knew he was going to say something like that. "I'm not exactly packed and ready for that kind of trip," I admit, knowing he'll hold it against me. Keepers are supposed to always be ready for long distance assignments, but I haven't been sent out of my sector in at least three years.

"I am." There's no haughtiness in his tone, in fact, he even blushes a little at being the perfect, ready-for-anything Keeper. And it is pretty, too.

"Well you'll just have to come help me out then."

**RHYOH**

I couldn't help giving one of those macho guy-to-guy whistles of respect when he led me to his car. It's the embodiment of classic. Not a showpiece - it's too well-used for that, but clearly well maintained and well loved.

"The shell is from an Earth car," he explains. "A '58 Studebaker Champion."

"2158?"

He chuckles and I shrug; I never did know much about cars. "1958," he corrects. "But its been updated inside to allow for modern technology, increased speed, even air-car capabilities. It's got a real feel to it, though, not all mass-produced metal."

He drives well, though too fast and thin golden Galt cigarettes appear in his mouth as if by magic. At one point I lean over and light one for him to keep his eyes on the road. That makes him smile.

"So fill me in on this case," I say. "Have you every served in the Interior?"

"A lot of times, but not for a few years now. More often than not, there is no case, just surveillance. We're supposed to set up in the Blacklands. There's a tavern there that's supposedly acting as a front for some pretty big drug operations, maybe more. The locals say nothing of course."

"Of course. How long will the Commander have us out?"

"Brushface? Hard to say. As long as he thinks we're needed, I suppose. He's got no reason to be too eager to see me again soon."

"You don't give him much of one, either."

He gives me that to-die-for grin again: challenging, mischievous, but mostly the expression of a man happy in his own skin. "And you're worried I'll corrupt ya?"

I swat at him instinctively, hoping to derail that kind of teasing. The way he said 'corrupt' was almost… no. I'm sure he was just teasing. I'm just not used to him yet. After awhile, I notice the direction we're taking, steady east. "Are we going clear to the 'Brinth?"

He shakes his head. "No, faintheart. I live in Lingerlight. It's not many miles from the 'Brinth, but you'll be safe enough."

I frown. "I don't need you to protect me, Dee. I am a Keeper."

He smiles. "I think so too."

I sigh. It's one of the oldest jokes there is - I can't believe I just got caught in it. Cigarette firmly between his lips, he just keeps smiling.

**NARRATION**

Like many of the homes in the city of New Abode, Dee's dwelling borrowed from several styles of architecture. Unlike the others, it did not seamlessly fuse each style to achieve a stunning whole. Instead, it gloried in its polyglot status. Rhyoh noticed that the New Abode's custom of building up, around, and almost on top of neighboring structures had been relaxed in the case of Dee's home. The other buildings gave it a wide berth.

The bottom floor jutted out on both sides, a box on a wide base. The next floor was constructed of curving whitewood, a tree native to the planet. A balcony extended marbled blue and white glass seemed to complete things, but jutting up from it…

"Is that a light house?"

"Uh-huh," Dee confirmed. "Former owner was a fanatic. I cleared out the rest of them, but that one lets me climb up above the city and look across it." Pride and embarrassment struggled across his features and eventually he shrugged. "It's a place to sleep. C'mon."

Dee led his partner through a docking bay given over to a near-space flyer named Against Autumn.

"You have your own ship?"

"Yeah." He patted a shining silver flank. "She's old, but capable. Nothing fancy though, just for nearspace travel."

They passed a small office and followed a series of serpentine stairways. Eventually they stopped before a rolling warehouse door. Unlocking a complex door-bind, Dee pushed the door aside. Inside was a huge room with a wooden floor, covered here and there with rugs.

"Make yourself at home," Dee told the other Keeper. "Kitchen's right through there. Bathroom's there." He pointed. "Speaking of which, you don't mind if I grab a shower, do you?"

**RHYOH**

I'm so busy studying his environment, matching it against him, that I barely register the question. "Sure, sure. I'll be fine." He smiles gratefully and I realize that the dust on his boots, on the cuffs of his pants, has been bothering him.

"Like I said, make yourself comfortable. There's not much in the fridge, but you're welcome to anything I have." With that, he's through the door and I hear the shower spring to life.

All right, I give. I associated Dee with clutter - multiple half-filled ashtrays, laundry scattered on the floor, a stack of dirty dishes and take-out cartons… but the apartment's neat. It's also huge, but being in Lingerlight and being somewhat of an unconventional building, I doubt it's expensive. I find myself wondering what he does with his money. None of my business, to be sure, but it looks like he must bank most of it. His possessions are sturdy, mismatched and secondhand - except for a stereo. His car and ship were expensive once, but both look like they've passed through more than one pair of hands. From what I can see, he doesn't own much considering the amount of money that he makes. There are no pictures. He seems to be around my age or younger, so I'm not surprised that he's not married. A lot of Keepers never marry, but good luck telling my Aunt Elena that… She doesn't think any man whose reasonably good looking and a "good provider" should be alone on a Friday night. I send my eyes around the room again, surprised to feel a sense of loneliness. So much space for just one person - you really don't have anyone, Dee?

I slump into an oversized chair. The sound of the shower enters my mind and I find myself thinking about my new partner. Everything about him should make me hate him - his pushiness, his disrespect in the face of authority, his strange manner of teasing - but I can't. I actually want to find out more about him, which should be easy enough on this assignment since we'll be living together. Of course, I'm deathly afraid of the flipside - the things he'll want to know about me. I was never a good liar and he doesn't seem like a man you could slip a whole lot past. I don't want those eyes searching my face, that's for sure.

His face comes easy to my mind. I'm good with details (it suits my work) and I build his image slowly - the ridge of his collarbone, the line of his waist, his long legs. The strength of the image surprises me; I just met the guy after all. I'm also surprised to find myself thinking of another man in such detail, while he's in the shower! Water darkening his hair, running over his olive skin… Ack! I'm losing my mind. The strain of this new job, new apartment, new partner, assignment to the 'Brinth - it all has me rattled, that's all. The shower shuts off, interrupting my thoughts, and shortly after he reappears.

He doesn't give so much as a look to me, but pauses in front of a long mirror to inspect himself and fuss at already perfect hair. He looks much more comfortable out of his work clothes, jeans snugly belted and worn in, a soft t-shirt, and a button-up shirt over that. A heavy chain hangs around his neck, a ring suspended from it. Maybe he does have someone after all.

"Through preening?" I ask dryly.

"Almost." He flicks an invisible speck of dust off of his sleeve, winks at me in the mirror, and turns, hand extended.

I look at him questioningly, but take the offered hand. For some reason, maybe against my own better judgment, I can't help but trust him. He shakes my hand, this time with feeling. "Dee Lyghtner. I don't think the first introduction took," he explains. "I was tired and a mess and I didn't feel like myself."

"Pleased to meet you, Officer Lyghtner."

"Well I don't think you were pleased the first time. Progress, huh?"

I have to laugh. He has such a winning smile.

He surveys the room as though afraid of it. "Packing… this could get interesting."

I clap him on the shoulder, offering reassurance. "Ah, we both have guns. Nothing in here looks too frightening."

"You haven't seen the drawers, or the closets." He pretends to shudder. "Want to come along with me and watch my back?"

"I'd be glad to help." The words just fly out. I think my offer puts me in a bad position somehow… and that wicked glint in Dee's eyes isn't making me feel any safer. Surprisingly, he doesn't insinuate anything.

"Sure, I'd appreciate it. I'll go through the dressers. There's a chest you can look through. I think I threw the stuff from my last 'Brinth trip in there. Maybe there's something we can use."

We work in silence, each absorbed in his own task. He pulls out clothes, discarding some, adding others to a growing pile. I lift things out of the chest. His old Academy uniform is folded on one side, making me smile. We've got that much in common. I wonder what class he graduated with. I make a mental note to ask him about it later. We were probably there around the same time.

Soon, I've gathered together a small pile of frontier essentials. Though all of New Abode City is just that, parts of it are anything but civilized. Hopefully we'll be well supplied by the series of Waystations every Keeper's section maintains, but if luck goes against us, we'll need to be ready to provide for ourselves - even up to hunting. A book looks up at me from the bottom of the chest: _LifeBonds_. I lift it up and wave it at my partner.

"You believe in this stuff?"

"Magic? Sure. I've seen enough of it. Don't you?"

I shake my head emphatically. "No." I expect my firm line to offend him - it's offended others in the past - but he just grins. Suddenly, he's very close to me.

"And what if you have a bondmate out there languishing because of your lack of belief?" His eyes rake over me and I feel like he can see much more than clothing and skin. Heat rushes to fill my face.

"I'm not real worried about it."

He draws away, shaking his head. "And I took you for the romantic type."

**DEE**

Ah, he does blush pretty! I like it too. The rose goes nicely with all the colors of his eyes - and I've got to get a grip. He's driving me wild, and I've only known him for a few hours. And I've got to live with this guy? If this keeps up, I'll be jumping him while he sleeps! I couldn't think of anything but him in the shower (got soap in my eyes for my trouble) and having him here in the bedroom is half killing me. His eyes sure aren't shining any kind of a welcome when I get close though. They just widen in alarm, then narrow - warning me. He's on high alert all the time, though, uptight. I wonder if someone hurt him - I'd tear the bastard's eyes out for it. More than I want to lift him up and settle him on my mattress, I want him to trust me. He is my partner after all. And there's always the hope that one thing will lead to another…

Trying not to think gutter thoughts, I zip my bags and check my weapons. Satisfied, I lay them out on the bed and add more ammunition to my pack. Rhyoh reaches over and picks up one of the guns.

"This one's a companion to the gun you were wearing earlier. I've never seen anything like them. Did you modify both of them yourself?"

"Good eyes!" I praise him, surprised. "Most people don't notice the modifications. You must like guns."

He lowers his head and says quietly, "I'm a marksman." Most people would brag over that kind of accomplishment and his obvious discomfort sets off warning bells for me. _Did you transfer because of an accident, maybe?_ That would explain the skittishness.

"Well, you sure know your weapons. I modified this one - one extra shot. I always wanted to hear 'you're out of ammunition' from some low-life, then blast them anyway."

"That's the corniest thing I've ever heard."

I smile. "Give me time - I'll top it. This one has eleven shots instead of the standard nine. It was a gift. I couldn't quite figure out how to match the design without having the gun blow up in my face." Tucking the weapons into gun boxes, I survey the room. "Looks like we're done here." We head out of the door and down to the car, each weighted down with bags. We still have to pick his up from his house as well.

We start out the door and down to the car. Halfway down the stairs the memory of his eyes clashes with the memory of him holding that damn book. Alberich's book. I almost hit my knees. _It can't be. That's impossible. It can't be. But for all that, it's worth looking into just the same. _

"Go on," I tell Rhyoh, my voice sounding strange in my ears. "I think I forgot something." Returning to the apartment I let myself fall apart for a moment before berating myself in the silence. "You're crazy," I tell myself. "You're making things up to justify wanting him." Right then, I promise myself that I'll find a pleasuress in the Interior. Tucking the book in my jacket I return to the car, to my partner.

**RHYOH**

Dee calls the Commander to let him know that we're on our way. The stress of the day hits the minute we're on the road and I sink lower into my seat with a sigh. Dee's gaze flicks to me, concerned.

"Ya okay?"

"Uh-huh. Just worn at the edges a little," I admit. It's not something I'd usually say but the concern in his voice strikes me. It's more than just a partner asking about a work acquaintance - it makes me uneasy on one level, how much he seems to care already, but I can't help but respond. "I didn't expect this kind of thing on my first assignment."

"You must be good - usually a newbie wouldn't be sent out like this."

"I'm not new to the job," I say, a little coldly. "Just new to the station."

"I know. It's still unusual. Anyway, you'll have a couple days to get rested before we need to get to work. If we get a chance, we should nose around the smaller towns."

"Isn't that funny," I muse. "How we call parts of the city towns?"

"The whole thing's a city, so sayin' 'the city' doesn't help. They're supposedly as big as Earth towns. Glassport is for sure, and Gausmoore, Icehurst."

"Did you ever wonder about their names? Why we didn't keep the alien ones?"

His eyes run over me again. "This isn't your home, huh?"

"Not originally."

"I've been here all my life. As far as I know, colonists changed the names because we couldn't pronounce the originals. Most are translations. Kariye and Fallyn are shortened versions. All of the names have to do with nature - Old Violet, Feywinter."

"What route are we using?"

"Along the Divide as far as Bluemeadows. Then we'll move into a way station." He gives me a smile. "No worries. Why don't you rest?"

I must trust him. Either that, or my new way to deal with stress is to become unconscious.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Not long enough for me to break the spell with a kiss."

That teasing again. He can't mean it… but for all the teasing in his tone, there's something in those eyes that makes me think there's more to it than a joke. He likes girls, doesn't he? He can't think I'd… I blush. I notice the radio is on faintly and I move to divert him. "What are you listening to?"

"Ah, Afterimage. It's an acquired taste. I'll turn it off if you don't like it."

"No, no. It's your car. The singer's an alien, isn't he?" No human could hit those notes.

"Yeah. The whole band, actually. They live on a ship and broadcast their music. I've always wanted to see them perform, but they only play on Rim planets. They freed some slaves, I think, so they've had trouble with Core planet governments."

I try not to let the word "slaves" bother me, but I know my distress shows.

"Here, I'll turn it off."

"No, it's not that. Just a little bit of a headache." He reaches out a hand to rest it on my head. "Dee, don't." I protest.

"Just making sure you're not fevered. No good getting sick on your first day." He looks at the clock. "Well, actually we're coming up on the second. Hey, I bet your head hurts because you're hungry. Let's stop somewhere."

"Sure. That sounds good."

**NARRATION**

The two men entered the restaurant with the look of friends. They were laughing, joking with one another. Rhyoh wore his partner's jacket. Dee had insisted when they'd discovered that Rhyoh's was buried under luggage. Rhyoh thought that the smell of it was appropriate to Dee - fine tobacco, brown vanilla, and a high, sharp scent like champagne.

The late hour had left the establishment mostly deserted , but the early shift waitress was all smiles, glad to have something to do. She noticed the blue-violet sweeps under Dee's eyes and made a clucking sound of sympathy. "Long night?"

"Lots of miles," he replied, soft smile all charm.

She responded instantly. "Aww, poor things! What can I get for you?"

When she had left, Rhyoh gave Dee a questioning look. "You think she's cute?"

Dee shrugged in answer. "Cute enough. Just you watch though - we won't have to wait for refills."

He laughed. "You'd turn on the charm for that? In an empty diner?"

"I could direct it at better things if you'd like." His smile was slow, possessive, and leering, and it totally disarmed to the blonde Keeper.

The food appeared as Rhyoh tried to regain ground. Seeing Dee's order, he couldn't help but chide. "You're going to die soon if you keep eating like that, you know."

Dee munched at a cheesestick appreciatively, surveying (with distaste) his partner's plain, healthy sandwich and soup combo. _Ah this man is repressed._ Saying nothing, he cut one of the deep-fried snacks in half and lifted it to Rhyoh's mouth. Rhyoh shook his head, but Dee insisted with his eyes. They ended up sharing the plate. _I could be good for him_, Dee thought. _Make him live a little. _

Reenergized after the meal, Rhyoh chattered away as they rode toward their destination point. It was completely unlike him - but Dee seemed to have that effect on his personality. Usually he kept him conversation strictly focused on work and other safe, neutral topics, but he found that he _liked_ to talk to Dee. Clearly his partner didn't have the same level of education he had, or, at least, he lacked the same sense of refinement, but Dee made up for it by seeming to know a little bit about everything - and by being eager to learn new things. As the night dissolved into morning, Rhyoh noticed that his partner's answers came slower and slower.

"Hey." He rested a hand on Dee's shoulder, making him turn and blink owlishly. "You want me to take over for awhile?"

"Nah. I'll be okay. We're almost there."

"You were out all night last night, too," Rhyoh realized aloud. "I didn't even think about that. I'm sorry, Dee. That wasn't right of me."

Dee smiled faintly. "I'd have asked you to drive if I needed you too, whelp. Keep talking to me though. That'll keep me awake," _Your voice… I won't drift off while I can still hear you. _"Tell me anything, I don't care."

**DEE**

His concern is touching, but it flusters me, too. I've had so few people in this life who gave a damn about Dee Lyghnter for his own sake… but he seems to. I'm trying hard to guard myself against that, not to fall into it and end up depending too heavily upon him… but it's tempting.

I feel so vulnerable with him sitting beside me. It's nothing I'm used to - almost-fear, vulnerability. I consider myself tough, because of my upbringing (if it was one) if nothing else. The job sort of sealed it. But with him, I want to… I don't know. I must be tired. A good night's sleep, and I'll stop feeling like he's someone I need to prove myself to. He'll be just like that waitress - just cute, not soul-cutting, not twisting up my mind and making me want to drown in the soft, rolling way of speaking he has.

I fumble for a cigarette and realize my lighter is in my coat. Without me even asking, he reaches over and lights it for me, though I know he disapproves. I have to shake my head, trying not to think of what it would be like to kiss him. I'm tired.

**RHYOH **

I watch his head dip for a moment. His eyelashes are _so_ long. I like the way he gets so intent around the flickering flame, the way his whole body relaxes into that first breath. Cigarettes aren't as harmful as they were in Earth-days, when they killed so many, but they still aren't good for him. I kind of like to watch him though. Admitting that, even in my mind, makes me squirm a little against the back of my seat.

I wonder why seeing him smoke makes me worry about his health. Why do I care? But he's my partner, I suppose I'm allowed to care. He seems to care for me - more than, perhaps, he should. I'm wearing his jacket, I know he's driving to let me rest (I know, even though he doesn't say so - it's not just him wanting to look tough, though I'm sure that's a part of it) , and he paid for our meal. He did it so quickly, keeping me distracted with some outrageous story, that I didn't even think to protest.

For some reason, I don't think this is typical behavior for him, either. He strikes me, above all, as a loner - and not just because he was working without a partner before I came along. I think he's used to relying on no one, with no one relying on him. But he seems happy to be with me. He gave me that first smile that stripped away all of my defenses and ever since he's been chipping away at me, teasing me, putting me on my guard, then turning it around with little kindnesses. I still can't believe I rose to the bait with that old Keeper joke… But one way or another, I'm assigned to him. I'm on this crazy ride with an unlikely partner - I may as well open my eyes and enjoy it.

**DEE**

"The way station should be right at the end of this road," I tell him. "We can stay there until the chief says otherwise." It hasn't been a bad drive. Most of the city traffic has been using its hover or flight abilities, so the ground has been pretty clear. I probably should have opted for flying as well, but I wanted a chance to talk to my new partner, to feel him out - to try to figure out what he's doing to me. Don't get me wrong - I understand the basic components. I know I want him. But there's more to it - and there shouldn't be. I haven't known him long enough to be feeling the way I'm feeling.

For all that the trip's been a good one, relief rushes through me at the sight of the Waystation. Shew. I didn't think I could keep this up much longer. I could have asked Rhyoh, but… Shit. Was I doing it _for_ him? Did I mention that I think I'm losing my mind? Mother would say I don't have much to lose, so I should watch it… Oh, Rhyoh… and you don't even have a clue what you're doing to me.

The sun starts exploding over the Waystation just as we pull in. I rest my head against the steering wheel for a moment, too tired to think about unloading the car or setting up the way station. They're usually pretty primitive things, keeps them from being easily found by scanners.

Rhyoh's outside of my door, looking in, hand outstretched. "C'mon. Let's get you inside."

"I'll be allright. I can help."

"It's my turn, officer." I think it's cute how he's using my title to order me around. That never worked for anyone else… but I am tired, and his gentle sort of bullying has me settled on the couch before I even know it. Then he throws a blanket over me, preventing my escape.

"Get some rest, partner."

**RHYOH**

There, perfect. All of our bags are moved in. Mine are unpacked, but I didn't go through Dee's. I swept the dust out and made the beds as best I could. Way stations tend to get castoff things - donations - so nothing goes together. We'll each have a place to sleep, though; I guess that's what matters.

Dinner is cooking on the stove. I've learned that much from living alone. Most single guys tend to rely on frozen meals or whatever a computerized kitchen can produce, but I've always preferred to make my own food, even if it meant eating a lot of mistakes along the way.

My partner is sleeping like a dead thing. He's even still wearing his boots. I wanted to take them off, but they go all the way up his legs and I don't think I could get them off without waking him. He's cocooned in a blanket, more sitting than lying, feet on the floor, head thrown back. His hair has fallen into his face. He looks so young like that. His long eyelashes glitter like star points on his cheeks.

Argh! Why does he do that to me? I don't care about other men's eyes or eyelashes or anything else. I'm not like that. I want a wife and kids and… I shake my head, hard, knowing I'm overreacting big time. So I notice he's beautiful - so what? That just proves that I'm not blind. No one could deny him his looks - and from the way he acted in front of that mirror, he knows it too.

To distract myself from the odd turns my thoughts seem to take whenever I think of my partner, I turn on his alien music. His easy acceptance surprised me. Even after hundreds of years of deep space colonization (and even more years of near space exploration) a lot of people still carry prejudices and a preference for all things unquestionably human, despite the largely humanoid appearance of all the other peoples we've found.

The singer's keening cry - full of loss, longing, pain… and some sweet quality I can't quite place: redemption? Hope? - touches something in me that's been silent a long time. The cadence is the same as… as her. As mom. He's singing of stardust and ocean-flow, the city's heartbeat, the pain of isolation. The images wash over me. I see the rim of the world from a plane, the glitter of constellations, a night of winter dreams.

"I'm not one to believe in magic, but I sometimes have a second sight. I'm not one with a sense of proportion, when my heart still changes overnight," goes the chorus.

Suddenly, my partner's voice joins in. It's lower than the singer's (as any human's would be) but still sweet. "What a fool I was for you." He looks a little embarrassed when my eyes find him. Not enough to blush - his skin would hide anything but a deep blush anyway - but enough to drop his eyes. But he keeps singing. "Don't ask me, I'm just improvising my illusion of careless flight. Can't you see my temperature rising? I radiate more heat than light." The guitar solo is so beautiful that it actually makes me close my eyes for a moment. But before I do, I see him across the room, see his pulse leap in his throat. The song touches him deeply. He seemed all tough exterior at first - I'm beginning to think there's more to my partner than he lets on.

"It's one of my favorites," he says when the song is finished.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I think his voice could call me out of a coma. How long did I sleep?"

"Not long enough for me to kiss you awake." My reply clearly startles him and I try not to chuckle. If this is the lingo he prefers, though, I'll use it too.

He searches my face before resuming the game. "Aww, you could do that anytime." The point is his this time; I can't speak again. He lifts his head, reminding me of a hunting cat. "Something smells good."

"I cooked."

**DEE**

Despite my couple of hour nap, I find myself yawning my compliments about the food, and my eyes barely stay open as I dry the dishes. I'd like to stay up and talk to him but as tired as I am, I don't trust myself not to say something really stupid.

"I think I'm turning in, partner," I tell him. "Thanks for taking care of everything."

"Goodnight Dee. Sleep well."

I resist the powerful urge to ruffle his hair - to touch him in any way, and take myself to my bed. I expect to fall right into dreamland, but I find myself adding up what I know about my partner.

1. He's alone. He didn't mention anyone, and no ring, but I wasn't sure until dinner. He can cook, and in my experience, that means no one's cooking for him.

2. He's a marksman, a Keeper trained to kill on command. It takes a great deal of raw talent and intensive training to become a marksman… and it doesn't seem to fit his gentle nature.

Before I can get to three, I'm wondering if he meant anything by that kissing comment. I think he was just throwing it back at me, and if he was, it's my own damn fault. I don't want to make him angry (I do have to work with the guy after all) so I cover all my comments with jokes. I'd like to see him respond to what's under the teasing, but he hasn't asked me anything about my personal life and I'm not brave enough to outright hit on him yet - though that might answer all my questions. As long as I throw it out there and then laugh I can get away with it. I can tell that I'm putting him off-balance, but he's still being plenty kind to me. I like the little nice gestures he makes - it's so different from the other guys I've worked with. He's considerate and just because I'm not doesn't mean I don't admire it.

There's a light on in the main room, creeping under my door. I'd bet anything he's dutifully reading reports from the area, making notes. We've still got a whole day between us and the field, so I'm not even thinking of working except for the fact that it was work that gave me Rhyoh. I wonder how I can exploit this last free day with him, how I can win him over. I guess it wasn't just being tired… I really do feel something for him. I hope it's just lust. That would be the simplest thing.

Long after the light in the main room goes out, my eyes remain open. My body feels uncomfortable and I keep bumping up against the wall. His bed is just on the other side of it, just a few feet from mine.

_**RHYOH**_

_The water surges, pink and white around the red stones. They've dumped their latest kill here in the water - a man who could have, maybe, told me something about that night 8 years ago. Now he's dead and they mean to have me join him. I see my fate in the water. The water drowns out their words but I know what they're saying, "Half-breed, alien," it's enough for them to sentence me to death - my Keeper's uniform just seals the deal. The muscles in my throat draw tight, holding back screams. I don't want to give them that. _

_None of the other Keepers know I'm here. I left my partner sleeping at guard duty, left no note. My supervisor will be furious… What a stupid thought, but there it is. I followed the leads on my own time, tracked them here to make an end of it. They took my family - I thought I could kill them. But my informant is floating in the river; I don't even know if these are the right guys. And I'm going to die here. The bullets rip holes in my uniform, send me sliding into a spiral of acid-green fireworks and flame. The water tastes like blood, like death… _

"Rhyoh."

_Who told them my name?_

"Rhyoh, wake up."

"Huh?" I flail, coming out of the dream, the memory. The room is dark, moonlight coming in through a window I don't remember leaving open. Seeing me shiver, he moves to shut it and the tobacco smell of him mingles with the night air.

He sits on the bed's edge. "Bad dream?"

I say nothing. I feel like crying, having given away so much, having shown so quickly how weak I am. What must he think of me now? He reaches a hand behind my back, supporting me, anchoring me. He murmurs something into my hair, something soothing, snatches of an old lullaby.

"Whatever it is, it can't reach you here. You're safe."

**DEE**

Once his even breathing tells me he's asleep, I cross the wooden floor to stand in the main room. Moonlight floods in through the many windows until I'm overwhelmed with silver, white, and lilac shining. I wouldn't have done it for anyone else. I would have left them to thrash and cry, pulled a pillow over my head and told myself that it was their problem. What's he doing to me? Still, I'm glad for the sight of him in the moonlight, for the way he let my arms come around him - too tired to care, I'd guess, too disoriented. Maybe he'll let me hold him again sometime. That sends me to bed with a smile.

**RHYOH**

I've already been up, washed, and eaten by the time Dee appears. At first, he seems completely bewildered, a state only emphasized by the wild, dark mess of his hair, his rumpled sleep clothes pulled every-which angle on his body. A slight twinge of regret touches me; he didn't sleep well either, and that's probably my fault. Head-cocked, he studies me for a moment, blinking slowly as he comes awake. Then a smile half-splits his face.

"Couldn't remember where I was," he admits sheepishly. I motion for him to come eat and he eyes the table appreciatively. "I could get used to this. Do you always cook?"

"For myself, sure. Cooking for two isn't much harder than cooking for one. We do need supplies though."

"We'll take care of that today," he says, loading his plate. "If it's all right with you, there's a couple of places up in Bluemeadows that I'd like to check out."

"Sure, I'd like that. I talked to the Commander today and he said not to show our uniforms while we're on the case. That surprised me."

"Hmm." Dee looks thoughtful a moment. "I hope no one tipped off the locals. That could make it difficult to get a look around."

"He emphasized just looking, too. Said we're not to try to bring anyone in - just gather information so a larger group can."

"No problem. I won't regret not putting binders on goons three times the size of me, thanks."

We lapse into companionable morning silence, but I can't stop thinking about the night before. "Hey, uh, about last night," I begin.

"Don't worry about it."

Whoa. Really? I expected questions. He smiles over the rim of his cup as if to say that he knew just what I was expecting, and delights in not giving it to me.

"It's a tough job. The things we see - they're enough to give anybody nightmares." He pats me on the back as he makes his way to the sink to start dishes - a role he's assumed both times I've cooked. "Of course," he says, not looking at me. "If you need someone to come sleep with you - I'm good at keeping mental goblins at bay."

And just like that I'm speechless again.

**DEE**

I like getting a rise out of him. I do. It's fun. But I wish I could read him better, could tell what he really thinks. The morning light is kind to him. My gutter mind thinks that it'd be even kinder if I threw him over that table for some patented, guaranteed-to-satisfy Dee loving. Better than coffee.

**RHYOH **

He's looking at me like _that_ again. Like that fierce light in his eyes is simply going to burn my clothes right off. I just can't look at him when he does that. Something in his gaze sends me into hiding, makes me avert my eyes until his attention turns. When I finally look back to him he's drying dishes and the light is gone. That should comfort me but I see a flicker of something cross his face - pain? When he sees me looking he tries to smile to chase it away, but the smile doesn't quite touch his eyes. For a minute I think that I may not be the only one carrying old wounds - but then he's joking, smiling, smoking, like he's never heard of pain.

By early afternoon we're in the town on Bluemeadows, sight-seeing. I try to tell myself to look around, to file information away for later, but the sky's too blue, the wind too fresh. Everything's all in carnival colors and Dee leads me from interesting shop to interesting shop as if he's lived in this part of the city all his life. Engrossed in a collection of Oriental art (I think it might actually be from Earth) I don't notice when he disappears. I catch up to him just as he's paying for a large collection of bootlegged music from his favorite band.

I creep up to him quietly before asking softly, "Isn't that all kinds of illegal, officer?"

My voice startles him, but he's smiling when he turns. "So are a lot of things that people do all the time. Unless," he extends his hands, "You want to arrest me?"

Somehow I've gotten too close to him again, and his breath is warm on my neck. Right in the doorway of a public shop, in a busy open market, he's close enough to kiss me. "You could at least try to be a little sneaky about it," I reprimand him, my voice shaking a little at his nearness.

"I'm an honest person."

I swallow hard, afraid of what he'll say next. "I know you are, Dee. C'mon, let's get supplies."

**DEE**

Something just happened between us in there. I wasn't even touching him, but I felt his temperature spike, felt his heart go racing into his mouth. Is he afraid of me? Does he want me? I'm so confused… and he's halfway down the street, looking at food vendors. I sigh and hurry to catch up.

Within a few hours we have the car loaded up with everything we'll need to survive - and a few extras, all mine. The bootlegs I had to have, even if he disapproved - they're stuff is just so hard to find, then there's the cigarettes and the junk food… and him rolling those pretty eyes every time. I'd like to see them roll for an entirely different reason… but I'm batting a thousand. I don't think I've done one thing to get him to smile all day. Of course, I have been laying it on kinda thick with the "teasing" but he looks so good… he's even cute when he's angry, and anger seems to be something I can produce in him pretty easily. Then it comes to me. Alberich took me to do it once and even if it's a childish sort of thing, it still might bring a smile.

"Come with me, I wanna show you something."  
Uh-oh. A very mistrustful look.

"It's nice, I swear."

He follows me, reluctantly, to the edge of town. Most of the market has closed down 'til evening. The sellers will sleep through the heat of the day, then this strip will become carnival-lighted for night-selling. That's when the drug sales happen, when pleasure girls and boys wave from the sidelines, promising a good time. Now it's just dust on the glittering pavement, bits of wrappers and ribbons.

"Dee, where are we going?"

"Hold your horses," I tell him, trying to remember the way. "We're almost there." A few moments later, we're at the edge of the well, shaded by its heavy white-wood cover. His eyebrows are up in points, questioning without saying anything. I place a silver coin in his hand - something else I found in the market. He works it through his fingers, studying it - the dead, young president on one side, the warlike eagle on the other.

"Earth money?" he asks at last.

"Uh-huh. For an Earth tradition." I tug him over to the well's edge, our reflections appearing side by side in the water. "Toss it in and make a wish."

Together we watch the coin sink under the water and he does smile.

"The aliens here say that the first thing you see in your mind after wishing is supposed to be your destiny. What did you see?"

**RHYOH**

"Ice cream." The words just dart out of my mouth. I haven't had ice cream for years. He makes me want sweet things, things I wouldn't normally want - things that taste so good because the whole time you're eating them you know you shouldn't be.

"I think we can handle that," he says.

He knows I'm lying, I'm sure of it. I don't know how he knows, but he does. The first thing I saw in my mind was his face… and I don't know why. Bringing spoonfuls of lime-vanilla ice cream to my lips, burning sweet and citrus, I still just don't know.

**DEE**

"Dee, you can't keep paying for things," he says as I spill snacks into his arms and tug him toward the show. I can't believe my luck, getting him to agree to go at all. He seems like the all-work-and-no-play type to me, but I asked as nicely as I could and here he is, enjoying the night beside me.

His eyes widen as the water stretches out before us - silver fading into violet, then deeper blue. The colors remind me of the colors in his eyes, how they all work together to leave you choking on your own breath.

"What is this place?" I hear him ask at my shoulder as I draw a small boat onto the shore. It costs extra for a motorized boat and I'm confident in my rowing abilities. Either way, we aren't paddling out that far.

"Liquid-Cinema. You've never been to one?" I ask, holding the boat steady until he's seated. The mist hovers in thick clouds above the water, distorting the lights coming from distant view screens. His hair is silver in the near-darkness.

"No."

"They don't do well in the pricier parts of the city - plus you need a lake, which the larger towns are all about draining. The projection interacts with the surface of the water so that it looks like the movie's walking right down to you. It's neat, and cheap, too."

We're moving in time with each other to paddle the canoe and I'm surprised (and pleased) at how this small task shows how well we work together. No words are needed as we quietly find our shared rhythm and he grins at me, once, from under his long bangs. That small smile takes all tension from him, softens everything about him, and I find myself wanting to just hug him, to tell him how curiously glad I am to have him around.

Before I can find the right words (or maybe the completely wrong ones), the canoe nudges up against our "seats." I've heard them called lots of different things, but "lily-pads" is probably the most popular name for them. I tie the boat off to one of the metal legs of the pad as Rhyoh climbs up. Within a few minutes the string of advertisements, terrible music, and previews is replaced by the show. The lights surrounding the lake drop and the screen casts its light on our faces. I relax against the pad and wait for him to join me.

**RHYOH**

He's laying close to me - almost close enough for me to put some distance between us. I can feel the warmth of his skin and I almost want to lean into it. The night air is cool coming off the water; the mist brushes against my face like gentle hands. I know without looking that he's watching me more than the movie. Part of me is unnerved. I just can't figure him out. He said that girl was cute… does that mean he likes girls? But the way he looks at me… I just don't know.

It doesn't matter. Even if he _does_ like me… even if he says something, all I have to do is tell him I'm not interested. Which would be a hell of a lot easier if there wasn't this other part of me that… the part I never, never acknowledge… this other part that feels… curious? Flattered? I like how he seems caught, how the movie only draws his eyes away for a few moments before they return to trace over me. Shit. These feelings… they aren't right, aren't normal, but as much as I shove back against them, they're still there. Something about Dee just pulls me to him. I turn back to the movie.

_Luridia_ - the title made me suspicious at first. I'd never heard of it, but it's neat. The main character, Adlien, is a soldier helping to colonize a planet. That's how the Keepers got started - they followed the colonists and set up courts to keep order between humans and aliens. In time, we became the main interplanetary law force in the universe.

Anyway, Adlien calls up this brothel asking for a girl. An associate of his opened the pleasure house and then made fun of Adlien, said he'd never call, said he'd never been with anyone. Instead of a girl, he receives a beautiful silver-haired young man. My eyes flick to Dee at this point - increasingly suspicious - (is he trying to tell me something?) but he's engrossed in the action, oblivious to my stare. Adlien calls the proprietor, and the man just laughs. Turns out that Adlien's mind controls the shape the alien (Kagnimir) takes. It's a _man_ he wants, no matter what he tells the brothel owner.

"Had you heard of this movie before?" I ask Dee, suspecting ulterior motives as two male mouths kiss. I'm not bigoted, but I can't help feeling a little uncomfortable… What if that's what Dee wants from me?

"Huh-uh. I just opted for the first thing that didn't have an X rating. The private seats lend themselves to certain practices." He waggles an eyebrow at me suggestively and I'm blushing furiously - and furious at myself for it, furious at him for being able to make me color so easily.

I can see why people would want to make love here. The mingled light of the movie and the three moons is beautiful and the mesh of the seats is suspended just above the lake. Dee is laying on his back, his feet dangling in, boots off to the side. The motions of the water would get caught up in the motions of what you were doing…the thought surprises me. It's been a long time, though…

Dee turns over on his stomach, head beside mine, and offers me a chocolate covered almond. I know I shouldn't lean forward and take it from his fingers with my mouth… but the movie and the moon have gotten into my blood. I keep my eyes on the screen like I don't even notice him and let my head dip forward. My lips graze his fingers and he shivers. (I like that I can do that to him, and the thrill of it dulls the shame I feel.)

At the movie's end I ask, "Do you think the jury let him off?" The movie was open-ended: the soldier released the alien (at his request) by killing him, crying the entire time. The alien didn't want to be trapped in the forms of other people's desires, so Adlien let him go.

"It doesn't matter," Dee answers. "He lost what he loved the most. There's no greater punishment than that."

**NARRATION**

Rhyoh groaned as his wristband summoned him awake. The early hour didn't send him cart wheeling for joy, but the reason he woke up angry had nothing to do with the time… and everything to do with his partner. He knew, at this point, that Dee wanted him and he theorized that Dee would do just about anything to get into his pants. He wasn't someone to give up on a goal once he'd decided on it. And still he'd have to dress, don his weapons, and face him. _Even after last night…_

They'd been sitting together on the stoop of the Waystation, quiet and worn after the movie. Dee blew smoke rings at the moon-wracked sky and it seemed to Rhyoh that the light and the smoke made up a sort of personal alphabet, a nearly decipherable poem written on the air in moon-letters. He'd been grateful to his partner for the gift of the movie, for the unusual sense of peace he felt in his presence. But then Dee had spoiled it, leaning forward to touch his lips to Rhyoh's cheek.

"Dee! I'm, I'm not… like that."

Rhyoh thought he saw hurt blossom in his eyes, but it only lasted a second and he couldn't be sure. Then he gave his copyrighted smirk. "Neither am I."

"Huh?"

"I'm assuming that by 'like that' you mean gay. I'm not. I'm bi."

Rhyoh stared, incredulous. _Does he think that makes it better? _Dee's words had shaken him; he was astounded by how open, brazen, and fearless his partner was about announcing his sexual preference, so unlike him. Dee had reached over, lifted his chin up.

"Hey, it was just a kiss. You won't die from it."

And then he'd walked inside, leaving Rhyoh with the feel of his lips on his face. Sighing, he pulled his shirt on and decided to handle the situation the same way he handled most unsatisfactory ones - by ignoring it. After all, he couldn't help what Dee wanted; it wasn't his fault. He was a Keeper, damn it, and Keepers did their jobs no matter what. Dee would feel the same. He left his room sure that they'd have no problems. 

**DEE**

It's easy enough to get into the Curved Horn… and anything easy makes me decidedly uneasy where criminals are concerned. We didn't even have to flash our fake Ids and here we are at a table. Rhyoh looks high-strung, his face too high-class for the atmosphere, but he sure looks good in his stepping-out clothes. I'd tell him so, but after last night…

He wasn't angry or rude, just shut me down pretty as you please. I hope he doesn't think that's the end of it. No one else has him, I don't see why I shouldn't try to win him over. And he can say all he wants about not being bi or gay or whatever, but when he took that piece of candy from my hand… uhmmm, he was sexy. And he knew it, too, knew what he was doing to me. Plus, there's lots of other little signs that put him slightly (stereotypically) outside the hetero camp. He's insatiably neat, for one. His appearance is impeccable. He can cook. Like I said, they're little things and I'm stereotyping for sure… but the vibe I get from him is not unquestionably 100 straight. Polite or not, last night's behavior was enough to earn me an aching jaw, but his eyes were more afraid than angry… I wish I knew what that meant, or that I could put him out of my head.

The darkness of the bar has a strange quality to it, it seems to get into your clothes. The whole place marks you, leaves a clinging residue. I turn to my partner. "There's drugs in the _air_ - smell it?"

"Well we knew that, from the reports. Or _I _did, anyway. Did you even read them?"

Ouch. "I read enough. So why hasn't anyone been able to shut the place down?"

"Anytime local forces went after it, they disappeared."

I snort. "Or were bought off. Well on to us, then. At least we can prove the drugs easy enough - they're probably in our clothes. I'll bet it's in my damn hair. "

**RHYOH**

I clench my fingers around the drink I'm not drinking. I scanned it - it's clean, but I don't think it's professional to drink on the job. Another rule that apparently doesn't apply to my partner. Listen to him, worrying about his hair as if we don't have much bigger things to tackle. Ah, there he is - the owner: Byron Amerastes.

"There's our guy," I tell my partner. I hope he at least looked at _that_ part of the reports.

He nods. "Think you can get a read on 'im?"

I'm looking at Am out of the corner of my eye; unfortunately, he's looking straight at us. "Not with him paying us special attention. Think he knows?"

"Nah. He knows we're new faces, but he's just cataloguing us, wondering how we get our kicks, if we're good for business. I'll distract him - you get the read."

He throws back the rest of his glass and gets to his feet. I'm sure he's about to do something dangerous and stupid. "Dee!"

He ignores me and struts onto the sparsely populated dance floor as if he owns the joint. Choosing a partner who looks like an ex-pleasuress, he proceeds to draw every eye to him, swaying like sin in black leather. He's so unfettered, and again I think that he's the only person I've met whose happy in his own skin. The colored lights make love in the purple highlights of his hair as he practically makes love to the woman in his arms. I nearly forget to get the read.

He returns to me with a faint glaze of sweat on his face and the remnants of a smile. "Whew. I could almost like this place. Didja get anything?"

"Shielded."

"Damn. He must be our guy though - only the big shots can afford shielding against scanner tech… and they're the only ones with something to hide. We'll have to try to follow him, get photos. How old-fashioned."

I look over at our suspect. Amerastes is tall and thin with an aura of decay around him. It looks like something has drawn the flesh from his bones and even his immaculate suit only serves to make him look like a caricature of the Grim Reaper. Half-reading my mind, Dee asks, "You ever notice that these guys look like they took one too many whacks with an ugly stick?"

"Yeah, but they always have a pretty girl in tow." Amerastes is no different; an elegant blond hangs on one arm like a piece of jewelry - you just expecte to see her there.

"Pretty slave, more like," Dee corrects. "Or an addict. Sex for drugs isn't such an unusual transaction."

"Slave?" I don't think my voice trembled, but I can't be sure.

"Yeah, they think he has a side business dealing in pleasure slavery - but no one's proved it yet."

"It wasn't in the reports." My voice is slightly indignant - I can't help it.

"Nah, there's no confirmation. But it's been said. I wouldn't be surprised if he's running it out of here. There's no way to tell how big this place is, if it goes underground. Did you try scanning it?"

"Yeah. There are defractors or scramblers in the walls - I can't get any kind of accurate measurements."

**DEE**

Before we can make any other kind of plans, an insistent hand tangles itself in the chain around my throat. The metal snaps and the thief darts away.

"Get him, Rhyoh! It's all you!" Shit, I shouldn't have used his real name… but I have to have that ring.

Taking the same exit as the thief and my partner, I find them in an alley outside. Rhyoh tosses my ring to me - it lands perfectly in the center of my palm. The thief - no, the kid, - is shuffling his feet, staring into the dirt. It's obvious at first glance that he's full-alien - his eyes are a little too large for a human face, his features are a little too sculptured. Beneath a backward baseball cap, his hair is platinum - striking against his coffee colored skin. When he looks up at me for a minute - glaring - I see that his eyes are a fierce, glittering blue - glass-hard.

"Why'd you do that, kid?" I ask him, voice cold. "You had to know you'd get caught."

"Hmmmph."

Before we can ask anything else, Amerastes is behind us in the alley. His voice cuts across the night like a switchblade - full with the sound of warning. "Gentlemen, are you having trouble with the help?"

Rhyoh stands slightly between the criminal and the kid. "Everything's settled now, sir."

"Good. Baikol is needed back at his duties. Baikol?" The kid has to much pride to slink forward - though that voice would have made me want to do as much. He struts back into the bar accompanied by two of Ameraste's thugs, head held high in a show of bravado that makes me almost smile as my hand came to the cut on my neck where the chain dragged.

Amerastes herds us back inside like lost sheep. "Can I get you gentlemen something to drink on the house? Young workers can be so troublesome…"

**RHYOH**

We're back at our table again, and this time I am drinking, frustrated. Am got too good a look at us, at our faces. He'd recognize us again for sure. My partner looks like he wants to throw out his drink and chew the glass; his face is a thundercloud.

"Damn kid. He's got us marked now, and he knows we aren't locals."

"Don't go too hard on him," I say. What if he's Am's slave?" Slavery in itself is bad enough, it almost rips my heart out to think that it's done to kids.

"Nothing we can do about it now. C'mon, let's get out of here. I can't think with his eyes ripping my skin off and his goons just itching to bury us in a ditch."

We make it back to the Way station without mishap, but we're both feeling uneasy. Dee hides it better than me, but he's got to be on his 50th cigarette.

"He was looking for someone tonight," I confide my suspicions. "He knew someone was coming."

Dee nods his agreement. "Someone tipped him off. Call the Commander and let him know he's got a leak - or spies."

"You think Am could infiltrate the Keepers?"

"Sure thing. He has his own secret police. Not one for every Keeper, and certainly not as well trained, but they're there. And a thug with a gun is dangerous enough without training."

I notice the cut on his neck. "You're bleeding, Dee."

"Hmm?"

"Your neck, where the kid ripped off the chain." His fingers reach up and suddenly the wound seems to… diminish. I look again.

"It's not as bad as it seems."

"O-oh. It seemed worse…" Did something just happen? No. My eyes are just playing tricks on me.

He rubs his finger back across the small cut. "Rhyoh, that kid, when he stole the necklace… he knew who we were."

"What?" Dee's voice is measured and serious, but I can't help thinking he's jumping at shadows. "Dee, he had no way of,"

"I'd put money on it, Rhyoh. He knew we were Keepers. Think about it - if Am knew to watch for us and the kid belongs to Am, he might know too."

"I don't know, Dee…"

"He knew. And I think he was trying to tell us something."

"We can stake out the place tomorrow, Dee," I tell him, not liking the dark glitter in his eyes. He nods and I take it as agreement and we both go our separate ways to prepare for sleep.

**DEE**

The book lays open on my knee, and the youngest moon is riding high in the sky. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice how bad my hands are shaking.

"The bond between two lives or souls is influenced by the individual personalities of those it affects. However, common indicators shared among couples affected by a lifebond include: low level telepathy or sharing of mental images, extensive empathy regardless of the length of time of association, impressive teamwork or joint effort, a shared feeling of safety, wholeness, or peace when in each other's company, an overwhelming physical attraction or desire regardless of true physical appearance or past desires or types, and a need to protect the other partner.

Unfortunately, the lifebond cannot be secured (answered, completed) until both partners acknowledge it. A failure to do so can result in depression, sickness, exhaustion - even suicide. However, some partners never acknowledge the bond and live out their lives in absence of each other. Though both partners of a failed bond may be capable of entering into other relationships, they will never gain the wholeness they would have experienced together. The intensity of the bond can result in either great and abiding love, or terrible wounds."

I gulp, once. He does make me feel safe and whole - he has the most soothing presence I'd ever encountered. We work well together, I do want to protect him… and don't even get me started on the "attraction" part. I was planning to go back to the Curved Horn, bond or not… but this would definitely be a way to test it. If he is my soul mate, he'll know where I've gone and he'll come for me… and if he isn't I might end up with a body full or lead or laser-poison and a soul set loose to wander the winds. I touch the ring hanging at my neck. I've got to go. I've got to find out what the kid wanted. I wish the book could be right and that Ryoh could belong to me, but as of right this minute he's my short-association partner, and I've got work to do. No sense getting a rookie killed on his first assignment.

I leave him sleeping and start back toward the Curved Horn.

This has to be one of the most disgusting tricks I've ever pulled… but I've got to know, and I can't think of any other way to get to the kid.

"Surely a place like this, a place known all over the galaxy must have a boy like that," I plead with the harem keeper. Looking and listening got me as far as the pleasure slave part of Am's operation… but now I need to make sure they bring me the right kid. I work hard to keep myself from shuddering. "C'mon, mister. I've been in space a long time." I add more money to the pile already on the counter, hoping the station will reimburse me if I get anything good.

The money talks sweeter than I do, and the "entertainments manager," as his nametag identifies him, begins to crack. "W-well… we do have a boy like that, sir… he doesn't usually do this type of work though…"

"So he'll be a little rough? Have some fight to 'im? That's even better!" I declare with a bravado I don't feel.

The manager smiles; he probably gets his kicks from knowing his customers' perversions, probably feeds off of them and thinks he's a better person. "Well if that's how you feel about it, sir… right this way."

I'm escorted to a room mostly overtaken by a large bed. It takes me ten minutes to scan it, then five more to disable all the listening devices and cameras stashed throughout. So Am's doing a double business here, too - selling sex to customers, then taping it to sell to other customers. Eww. I sit and wait and soon the kid is shoved in from the other side of the wall.

Baikol blinks sleepily at me a few times, then horror overtakes his face. "You! You freaking dirty perv!"

I advance toward him slowly, trying not to roll my eyes. Then I dart towards him in one motion and cover his mouth with my hand. He struggles, trying to bite. "Shut up, you monkey-faced brat!" I say unkindly. I don't have time to finesse him - I need trust and cooperation, and I need them yesterday. "I don't want to sleep with you. I want to know why you tried to get my attention at the bar. Why'd you steal the ring, kid?" When his eyes show me that he won't scream, I uncover his mouth and back away.

He swipes his hand across his mouth, then along his pants defiantly, still playing the tough guy. "It seemed important to you."

"It is," I tell him. "And why would you have wanted my attention?"

"You're a Keeper."

I nod, pleased, and try to offer a reassuring smile. It'd be more reassuring if I wasn't in the fortress of a goon who would no doubt delight in turning me into remains and then escorting those remains to a dump or a river. "Right. Now tell me what the hell's going on here."

As Baikol begins to detail the slave deals and drug operations conducted out of the Curved Horn, fire suddenly engulfs my leg. I didn't even here the shot. Baikol, for all the toughness he pretends, is petrified, eyes as white and round as dinner plates. I try to get up, to show him I'm okay, but the fire is working its way up my hip, into my groin. Fucking lasers.

"Keep quiet, seeker," says one of Am's men, obviously one of the higher ups - his voice shows that he has a brain. That, and he called me by the old title - seeker instead of detective. It's what the aliens called the original Keepers that did investigative work among them. Revived the Who song and everything. Two of Am's other goons drag me to my feet and divest me of my weapons, and the smart one leans in close. "You'll feel worse sooner than better - and after Am knows what you know, I'd guess you'll feel nothing at all, ever again. You should have minded your own business, seeker."

"Space trash like you and your boss, who get rich off of kiddie porn are my business, cocksucker." Foul language just leaps to my tongue whenever I'm confronted with those who deserve it. That, and I'm in serious pain.

"Lock him up," the smart one says.

"The kid too?" asks another goon.

"The kid too. He isn't worth that much, but I'd say Am will want to get his money out of him before killing him."

Within moments, we're locked in some featureless room - though his goons had to drag me most of the way with my leg torn up as it is. The way they took us, I couldn't even tell if we went up or down. This could be an attic, a basement… who knows? Whatever and wherever it is, it carries a coppery smell that makes me think of blood. People have died here.

"So you're a slave?" I ask the kid.

He shuffles a foot against the floor, eyes averted. "Yeah. Mom dumped my sister and me with dad - who got himself killed running drugs before he could pay off his debt, so it passed to us."

"Kid, I'll do my best to get you and your sister out of here."

"She's dead, you asshole. I thought you'd be an easy out. Are all Keepers so stupid?"

Before I can protest, one of Am's goons comes through the door, eyes focused on Baikol. "Boss says I'm to teach you about loyalty, boy. I can't kill you, but you won't be walking for awhile." His voice announces that he takes sinister joy in threatening someone a third of his size.

I stand, shakily, and put myself in between the thug and the child, missing my beautiful guns heartily. "Back off."

The thug grunts - his natural form of communication, I'd guess - and advances on me. My injured leg keeps me from dancing away from him, from using my lighter weight and speed to my advantage. Within a few seconds, he's got my arm in his hands - and the bones shatter under his mammoth grip. But he leaves without hurting the kid.

Baikol kneels beside the place where I've sank to the floor; it's been a long time since I felt real pain. I'm just barely suppressing my gift, unwilling to give into its lure, wanting to learn whatever the pain has to teach me. That, and I don't have time to slip into a healer's trance. "Dude, are you okay?"

I hold up the mangled arm. "You mean this? Sure. I've had worse." I extend my right hand using the arm that's whole. "Dee Lyghtner, senior Keeper."

"You're doing a bang-up job."

I frown, trying not to let a kid challenge my ego. "What's your name, kid? I know a stint with Am would ruin anyone's manners."

He takes my hand grudgingly, unwilling to grant easy respect. "Baikol."

"I'm sorry about your sister, kid."

He nods, once. "She kept the worst of it away from me. I found out about… what she had to do, what they made her do… after she died. She kept journals."

"You have those journals?"

"Yeah."

"So you've seen all the inside shit. Would you be willing to testify against Am if we can bring him in?"

"In a heartbeat, but in case you didn't notice, he's gonna kill us."

"My partner's still out there," I say with more confidence then I probably should have. Will Rhyoh find us? Will he call for back-up? Will he hate me for going off without him? I don't even _like_ kids… but the way this one put everything on the line in front of his boss, the way he went for the one thing of value I carry on my body - shit, maybe he reminded me of myself.

"Your partner?" the kid repeats. "The other Keeper? He didn't look like that good of a bet," he says, "Too oblivious."

He's good at reading people, anyway. Rhyoh does have sort of an airhead streak about him… I sigh and rest my head on my arm. "Ain't that right…"

His next words cut right through me. "Not responding to your advances, huh?"

The words fly out of my mouth, more air than sound. "How in the hell…? You're just a kid." Just like that, my whole hand on the table.

"I could tell," he says, cocky, full of himself. "The way you were looking at him. He didn't notice that either. He was nice in the alley, nicer than you. You probably don't deserve him."

I resist the urge to growl at the kid, still stunned that he could see the way I feel for Rhyoh. I've never felt that way about anyone else, never opened up to anyone else so easily, almost against my own will. "What makes you say that?"

"He's not a dirty perv like you."

Pain shoots up my leg, accenting the fire in my arm. "You're so not worth this!" I declare, for lack of a better retort.

**RHYOH**

"Dee?" I ask into the empty Way station, knowing even as his name leaves my lips that he's not here. The silence is too perfect. And I can… feel… his absence as strongly as I could feel his presence.

"Fuck!" Suddenly, I know exactly where he is. I know just what he's done. And for a moment it seems like I can see him in a plain room… hurt, his arm bent at an unnatural angle… I shake my head and shake the vision at the same time, and hurry to get my weapons.

**DEE**

I hear the kid's voice over my shoulder. "What are you doing, weirdo?" I'm kneeling, eyes closed, hands to my temples. If it is a lifebond, there's a chance that he can hear me, can find me.

"I'm trying to talk to my partner."

He peers at me intently, trying to see something happening. "What are you? A magic user or something?"

Damn, the kid's perceptive. "A minor one." I look over my shoulder at him. "But I'd appreciate you keeping that to yourself."

"Dude! Magic us out of here!"

I half-smiled and shake my head. "It's not that kind of magic. I'm doing my best."

**RHYOH**

An alien girl is sitting on the hood of a hover craft just beyond where I ditch the bike I took from the station. She waves at me and I find myself gawking at her cotton-candy pink hair. As I get closer, I notice she has golden eyes. She's an alien. She looks up at me with a woman's smile on a child's face.

"Looking for your partner?"

I gape, then look around, wondering if I'm being set up. She just smiles prettily and bats her eyelashes. "You heard me," she says after a moment. "You're the other Keeper. Am knew you were coming - he had the local law in his pocket and he knew when they called for you. He said he wasn't going to let a couple of city Keepers shut him down."

"Who are you?" I get out, after a moment. I'm thinking: _whose side are you on?_

She extends a delicate hand and I smell new roses. "Callista Baker. Am owned my mother. When she died, he forced me to finish off her debt."

Her eyes are old in her young face; it sickens me to imagine what she's seen, what she's been forced to do. "If you'll help me, I can protect you from him."

"What do you think I'm sitting here for? C'mon."

I can't believe I'm following this pink-haired girl. Her jeans are scuffed, tom-boyish, but her silk blouse and the scarf around her throat emanate femininity. She's a blend of street wisdom and high-rise beauty and I pray she isn't leading me into a trap.

Please Dee, be alive. Please.

I see him in my mind's eye - staring at me at our first meeting, dancing like he was at the club, I see his face leaning in to give me that kiss. His eyes were closed when he did it. At the time I thought it was nervousness, but maybe it was sincerity instead. Damn him. I don't know why he's imprinted himself so strongly on my mind, but I want the chance to figure it out. I need to find him alive.

As we head toward the club, I look to Callista for reassurance. "We can't just walk in the front door!"

"Sure we can. Watch." She flounces up to security, all sunshine and smiles. "Customer, boys." She says sweetly. "You'll clear us, won't you? He's only got the money for an hour and he doesn't want to waste any of it." The guards laugh and one gives me a conspiratorial wink.

"Sure thing, Cal," he says. "Enjoy yourself."

She leads me through passageways which are invisible from the outside, carved into the walls. "Where are we going?"

"Your partner's being held here - I heard it from one of the other girls. They won't kill him outright - they'll want information first. We need to come up with a plan. Can you get other Keepers here?"

"Sure, I can call them on my wristband… but I don't want them to know what's happened to Dee." It could ruin his whole career. He went off alone, exposed himself to a suspect, got captured… An idea dons on me. "Callista - do you know the exits out of this place?"

"Sure. Am makes sure all his girls know his hidey-holes for when he calls us - or for when we need to get away from an aggressive customer."

"Could you detail those exits to me? I can get backup here in an hour if I promise them they'll take down Am. He's here, isn't he?"

"You can bet on that. He'll want to be there to question your partner."

I try not to think of what they might do to Dee. Keepers are trained to weather and withstand all kinds of torture, but it's training we hope never to have to use. "All right, tell me all the ways out of this place."

"Am will still have all his goons, all his guns. Your Keepers won't have an easy time getting him in his own hole."

I nod. I don't want a bloodbath -- I'm just worried about Dee. "Callista, the night market in BlueMeadows, they deal in weapons, don't they?"  
"Sure, but a few more weapons aren't going to tip the odds." She's looking at me strangely, head tilted to the side, clearly thinking I'm crazy.

"What about explosives? We could create a diversion inside, make it harder for them to get to their guns. An explosion would send them running for the exits, right into the hands of the Keepers."

She smiles. "I'll draw you a map, then I'll go to BlueMeadows. You wait here and call your Keepers, then try to get to your friend. I'll show you where the holding rooms are."  
"Can you drive? Can you get there in time?"

She waves her hand and disappears, then reappears behind me. "I'm a magic user. I'll get there in time - and I can get the explosives in unseen."

I blink, gaping. "If you can do that, why haven't you escaped from here long ago?"

"Am has the only things I have from my parents. He keeps them heavily guarded. I won't leave without them."

She kneels down beside me, and begins to outline Am's hideout.

I'm forever in debt to a pink-haired girl who can disappear. I've never been the praying kind, but I'm wishing hard for her safety as I head towards the holding area, Dee's guns beside mine at my waist. Callista charmed her way past a guard to get them, then set out toward BlueMeadows, vanishing. I felt completely insane as I called my Commander and spoke of unprecedented developments in the case. I told him that we had evidence that Am was planning to move his operation suddenly, that we'd lose him if we didn't take him soon. He bought it, hearing the sincerity in my voice, and sanctioned my call for reinforcements. I didn't mention the explosives. There'll be time to explain that after it works. If it doesn't work, I'll probably be explaining it in a courtroom. And all because of my partner, Dee.

Damn him. I can't stop thinking of his cutting grin… his kiss? No. That doesn't matter. If it was anyone else, I wouldn't have cool, clear beads of sweat coursing down my ribs.

**DEE**

It's hard to think with two guns sighted on the more vulnerable parts of your anatomy. They're playing with me, these goons. They're loosening me up for the questions that will come later. My pretty face has lost a few points of hotness, and my left eye feels like its going to explode. I'm sure they'll stoop to mutilation soon, maybe even rape. It's what trash like this lives for. At least they're leaving the kid alone. He's playing it tough, jaw set stubbornly. I can tell by the tension in his legs and arms that he's waiting for a lull in the action to cause trouble. I wish I could heal my damn arm, but they won't stop pummeling the rest of me and it's damn hard to go into a trance when you're fending off blows. I haven't been in real pain since I learned healing at the Academy - and it's really getting to me. I feel myself slipping towards some inner edge. There's darkness beyond it, and I try to crawl back from it, try to get up on my knees.

The sound of gunfire is the last thing I expect to hear - but I find myself curiously uninjured - well, I'm not shot anyway. Shit, they killed the kid! My gaze flicks toward him, but he's whole.

"Shit, dude!" Baikol says with total admiration. "You just blew them away."

"I had to," says the sweetest voice I've ever heard. "They were going to kill you." _And Dee…_

His eyes, Rhyoh's eyes, shift towards me and I see a thousand emotions tumble through their tri-colored depths: anger, fear, relief. He even smiles at me for a second. Then he notices the wounds. "Oh Dee…"

Finally, I can let some of the healing come. My eyes close and I tend to the injuries, soothing them just a little. It feels better than nicotine hitting my system, and even though I could probably stand on my own, I let him help me to my feet. "You must have been worried about me," I say and though I didn't mean to let it show, there's some pleading in my voice. _Forgive me. I didn't mean to. _

"I'd never have gotten promoted if my partner died on our first assignment." He sobers. "Don't do it again, officer."

I nod once, offering understanding and apology with my eyes.

"Now let's go," he says in a commanding tone. "This place is rigged to go sky high." I learned later that Callista had assured him of the placement of the bombs via his wristband frequency; she was secreting out the slaves as they spoke.

"Rigged?" I ask, wondering about this new kick-ass side to my previously gentle partner.

"Just come on. You too, Baikol. You can testify against Am once we get him. Dee and I will keep you safe."

The kid approachs Rhyoh with absolute trust, totally opposite of how he'd come to me. Of course, Rhyoh seemed to like kids - so maybe that explained his affinity for them. "You can keep me safe," he says to my partner. "I don't know about that one." Hurting with every step and trying not to show it, I resist the urge to crack him in the head.

**RHYOH**

We're outside when the place lights up. Callista was true to her word. I put the other Keepers on alert for a girl with pink hair. When she's out, I want her to come to Dee and I to be put in our protection like Baikol. It gives me all kinds of satisfaction to see Am tucked into a station car and the Commander gives us a salute as I lead Dee to a tree and settle him. Baikol is with the medical unit, getting checked out.

Dee's looking at me out of a bloody, dirty face, eyes shining with the purest admiration I've ever seen. "That was the most unconventional, and most brilliant, rescue I've ever seen, Rhyoh."

I shrug, turning from the light in his eyes. "I had to do something. I thought you hated kids - why'd you go back for him?"

"I couldn't get him out of my head," he answers.

"You should have told me about your plan," I say, voice hard.

"I know," he admits softly. "But I knew you'd come for me. One of us had to be outside in case something went wrong. I guess I'm not much good at rescue duty."

"No, you're not. You shouldn't have gone about it that way, Dee." I sigh, exasperated with him. "But I'm glad you set him free."

"And thanks to you we got the whole ring," he points out, making me feel good.

"I'm sure some of them will still get away. Come on, you need to get to the medics."

**DEE**

I can't help it, I smirk. A healer, going to medics? Nah. I can handle this myself. But I haven't revealed my gifts to him yet, and I'm still reluctant to do so. "I'll be fine."

"Dee, you could barely walk a few minutes ago."

"I heal up quick, Rhyoh. You need to get back to the investigation anyway. If you go now, the Commander'll go easy on you."

"But,"

"You can't be stuck writing reports after your first success." I shrugs. "I'm used to it." This time I even deserve it.

Rhyoh kneels beside me, refusing to take no for an answer, and offers me a hand.

"I'm not leaving you, Dee. I am your partner after all, aren't I? C'mon. Give me your hand."

I take his hand, I'd take anything he wanted to give me, but instead of using it to pull myself up, I tip the scales and pull him down to me.

Flowers appear in my mind, dropping delicate petals ripe with scent. His wrist is pinned under my hand, his body frozen as if he's received an electric shock. It's everything I've wanted, the feel of those soft lips on mine. My eyes close and I'm deep in the heady waters of the kiss. He isn't kissing me back, but he isn't fighting me and I'm thanking gods and goddesses just to be allowed this one moment. I let him go tenderly. He stares at me, face close to mine, but my eyes are half-lidded with pleasure and my mouth is relaxed; my face is already bruised, I'm ready for anything he's prepared to dish out. Neither of us are moving and I decide to take advantage of his stunned stillness. Patting him on the back, I smile and say "Welcome aboard, partner." Then I'm on my feet and on my way to the medics - even though I feel like a million bucks.

I hear him cursing behind me and I know I'll get it later, but right now I'm happy in my bruised, soot-stained (courtesy of the explosion), bloodied skin.

**RHYOH**

Within a few hours, we're back at the Way station, Baikol in tow, and Callista promised an escort to the way station later. Baikol helped Dee find some journals to help incriminate Am - though they'll hardly be necessary at this point.

"You know those books probably won't hold up in court," I tell my partner. I'm irritated with him over the kiss and I feel like picking a fight.

"The Commander said he'll find a prosecutor who'll make them hold up. I want justice for that girl, Rhyoh."

His vehemence surprises me. "Commander's going to be pissed at us later, you know."

"He lives his whole life in some or another pissed off state," my partner replies without apprehension. "Don't worry about it."

"Easy for you to say," I shoot back. "I think you live to irritate people."

He raises an eyebrow that seems to say "Gotcha." "Do I irritate you, Rhyoh?"

"You shouldn't have kissed me," I tell him, gritting my teeth. "You didn't even ask!"

He leans in, closer than I want him to be. "And if I had? If I'd had your permission, we'd have been golden, right?" His hand is on my shoulder.

Before I can snarl a retort, Baikol is between me and Dee, landing a pretty decent punch on his cheek. "Don't touch Rhyoh like that, you bastard."

Hand to his face, Dee asks, "Where the hell did you come from?"

I step forward protectively, knowing the kid will be the target of Dee's anger. "I'm going to take him in for a little while, Dee. He doesn't have anybody and I live alone. I can make sure he gets to school."

Dee's eyes go wide, flicking back and forth between me and Baikol. "What? What the hell, Rhyoh? He's been living his life in a criminal organization! He'll rob you blind!"

"He wasn't with Am by choice, Dee. And I can take care of myself."

"I'll watch after both of them," Callista says, smiling and stepping into the room.

"What? You're keeping her, too?"

She tweaks his nose, pretty as can be. "No, silly. My aunt lives in the Highlands - like Rhyoh. I'm going back with you guys."

"Callista?" Baikol asks after a minute.

"Bikky?"

"You two know each other?" Dee asks.

"Yeah," Bikky says. "Am didn't let us talk much - but we've seen each other around."  
He turns to the girl. "How'd you get in here?"

"Picked the lock," she says shamelessly.

Dee's eyes roll in disapproval. "You'll have the place full of them by morning. I'm going to get something to eat."

I follow him, irritation dissolving. He was happy to see them safe, I could tell. I wait until he's seated at the table with a sandwich, cigarettes in easy reach. "Dee, I need your help."

"Oh?"

"I - uh - I'm still living in station housing. You know how small those units are. I don't have enough room for Bikky and Callista."

"Bikky?"

I shrug. "It's what he likes to be called."  
"I prefer 'brat.' So, you want me to call a kennel?"

"Dee!"

"Sorry."

I can tell from his expression that he is sorry, that he's feeling contrite in the face of my annoyance with him - now's as good a time to ask as any. "Dee, can we come stay with you? I know you have lots of room."

His eyebrows arch and I can see the gears turning. Having me close to him is an incentive… but having Baikol in the same house is not. For a minute, I think he won't go for it. I can't afford a hotel for long, and it will take awhile to track down Callista's aunt.

"We?" he asks. "Like you, too?"

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to take care of two teens."

"Thank god," he says, reaching for his cigarettes. "I hate kids. Can't believe I'll be living with two of them."

"So you'll do it?"

"Yeah. I guess I owe you for today anyway."

I don't answer that either way; feeling a little guilty for his escapade might be good for Dee. "You know we'll have to keep watch tonight. If any of the ring got out intact, they'll be after Bikky and Callista."

"I know. You go ahead and get something to eat, rest. I'll take the first shift."

**DEE**

"What are you doing?" Bikky asks when I settle myself in the main room where he and Callista are playing some sort of video game on the screen. It probably came with the view screen - I don't know how half of its features work and the remotes (3 of them) have such helpful labels: PIP, JUMP, VSB.

"Watching you guys for awhile so Rhyoh can get some rest." I feel under the folds of my shirt for my gun and brush reassuring metal. Suddenly, Callista's clothing looks familiar. "Hey, are those my pajamas?"

She giggles. "Rhyoh lent them to me. They're just like wearing my dad's." She flaps the sleeves to show how they come down over her arms.

That damn softheart! My food, my pajamas, my house! If he wanted any of it, it'd be different - but to waste it on these kids!

Bikky reaches up and pings the ring at my neck. "So why is it so important?"

I'm instantly defensive. "Why do you care?"

He shrugs. "I don't."

Shit. I know I've messed up. I want the brat to at least be able to tolerate me - Rhyoh seems all kind of fond of him. "So, Baikol - that's a different name," I try again.

He reads only insult in my words. "An alien name - don't tell me the hair and the eyes didn't give it away. You got a problem with aliens, perv?

"No, I've got a problem with mouthy little brats." So much for taking the high road… In no time at all, our conversation dissolves into loud, squalling, free-for-all wrestling match and I'm chasing two wound up kids, yelling threats that only draw their laughter. Cal's on my back pulling my hair out and Bikky's getting away but I've got a leg - good, clean fun.

Then I look up from chewing carpet under Bikky's ministrations, and my partner's tapping his foot in my face. "I think we'd better trade, Dee." he says, smiling. Cocky little bastard… "C'mon, guys, let's find a movie to watch." And suddenly, the room is like perfect angel central, everything going back into place. I'm looking at the kids' shoulders for wings. Bikky's already starting to slump toward sleep on the couch.

"I want to watch a movie," I whine.

Rhyoh rests a hand on my shoulder and shakes his head. "We aren't going any higher than PG-13, Dee. I doubt you'd be interested. You're still hurt, you need to get some rest."

I flash puppy eyes at him. "Are you sure you won't come hold me for awhile?"

"Dee, quit teasing me like that. I know it's just your usual sorry attempt at humor. Give it up already."

Damn it, I'm more than sick of this. Angry and not even thinking, I crush out my newly lit cigarette and lay my palm flat on the wall beside him. He's trapped in my arms and from somewhere far away I hear him say my name, protesting, but I don't care. One hand flat on the wall above his head, I use the other to lift his face to mine. This time, my kiss isn't a gift to a willing mouth. This time, I kiss him dizzy, holding his head up to mine, our foreheads touching. I draw back a little to ease his mouth open with my tongue and find his fingers are clenched in my shirt. When I lean back in, plundering that sweet, captivating opening, I feel his eyes close, feel his hands holding on to me, clenching and unclenching as if he doesn't know whether to hold tighter or push me away. With a last caress of my tongue, I pull back and look down at him.

"Don't ever dismiss me like that again, Rhyoh."

Leaving him with his legs half-buckled, I walk down the hall to get some rest. "Wake me when you get tired," I call over my shoulder.

**NARRATION**

She saw the kiss, saw the blond Keeper sink to the floor with his hand over his mouth, eyes gone wide. Bikky was already asleep on the couch, snoring. Slipping out of the Way station, Callista made her way to a open clearing, then closed her eyes. In moments she was a block away from the Curved Horn in the exact alley where she'd promised to meet Therus.

A low-level player in Am's operation, Therus would be glad for her information. He could sell it to Am's superiors, who would surely be looking for revenge in the light of the night's events.

He stared across the alley at her with cold, dead eyes. "I must commend your gall, little Miss, arranging this meeting with me."

"Did you bring my parents' things?"

He opened the suitcase at his feet to show her the contents: a few pictures, her mother's mirror, a handkerchief that had belonged to her father, that had still smelled like him the last time she had held it. "They're yours, if you can give me the names of the Keeper who did this."

**RHYOH**

I don't know exactly when I sank to the floor. Sometime after he kissed me… where did he learn to kiss like that? I've never… never… No one's ever kissed me like that. I shouldn't have let him, should have stopped him, but it felt so good… so overwhelming, like a storm came into my body, into my bones. He was the cause of the storm and my only shelter from it, leaning into him protected me and I was clinging to him - clinging to the body of another man! I'm not gay. I'm not. I'm not. I'm not.

Bikky's voice interrupts my inner turmoil. "Rhyoh, I can't find Cal."

After searching the house, I go to wake my partner. "Dee, the kid's gone," I say after shaking him awake.

"You lost her? Criminy!"

"She's a magic user," I explain. "She can… teleport, I think."

This doesn't shock my partner at all. "Any idea how far she can get?"

"None."

"Well, she wanted to go back to the Highlands with us - what would make her change her mind?"

I flash back to our initial meeting. "Am had some items that belonged to her parents. He used them to keep her from running."

"Let's go."

We blaze through the night on the remaining bike, me riding behind Dee, but Bikky's already on the scene when we arrive, holding a gun. He must have taken the other bike. A trail of blood leads away from the scene and Cal is collapsed, weeping, on a suitcase.

"Are you guys okay?" I ask, looking them over. I don't see any blood.

"H-he tried to hurt me," Cal said through sobs.

Dee looks to Bikky. "So you shot him?"

I look to Bikky. "With my gun?"

He hands back the weapon, street tough and unruffled on the surface. "Just in the leg. He won't die from it."

Dee looks at me. "Oh yeah, let's take in some kids…"

"Cal, what was this about?" I ask the weeping girl.

"He - he had my parent's stuff. I tried to get it after the explosion, but I couldn't find it. He said he'd give it to me if I helped him."

I have a better hand with this kind of thing than Dee does, so I motion for him to take a walk. He and Bikky head back toward the bike, Dee questioning Bikky about being able to drive. "Cal, we're Keepers. We would have gotten your things back for you," I tell her softly.

She only cries harder. "It's all I have from them." She looks up and her eyes are huge, tears trembling on her lashes. "I'm so sorry." She launches herself into my arms. I hold her, stroking her hair, soothing her. "It's okay. It's okay." When she's calm again, I ask, "Cal, what did he want in exchange for your parents' things?"

"Your names."

My eyes widen, but I hold tight to my emotions. "Did you give them to him?"

Her head drops and my heart plummets with it. "Just… just Dee's," she says in a whisper.

Oh shit. Not much is left of Am's operation, but those who remain will be looking for my raven-haired partner and if Am answered to anyone, his boss might put a hit on him. Oh shit. I sigh long and loud, then look to Cal. "Look, this is our secret for now, okay? I'll watch out for Dee." I don't know what makes me say it, but it's done now. I'll make sure to inform the Commander, but I'll tell him the same thing when he asks if I think Dee should be protected. I can see the scene already, can hear myself saying, "I'll look after him, Sir."

I walk Cal back to the bike, and my strange and sudden family heads back to the Way station.

A few weeks later

It's a strange family: an alien boy toughened by street life and a lifelong association with crime, a pink-haired alien girl who mothers us all, a _wanted_ Keeper who makes no secret of his desires, and me. It's nothing I planned for when I signed up for this job, but it makes me smile all the same. The Commander, though suspicious of our methods, was happy with the results of the partnership between myself and Dee, and made it official when we returned from the interior. I can't wait to see our next assignment…


	2. Chapter 2

**Heartshy Chapter Two**

**SinnamonGirl **

**So, here's the second chapter. It doesn't come from the canon, and I hope no one will mind this "apple among the oranges" chapter -- I swear it hooks back into the canon later and helps support other things I'll need in later chapters - especially concerning Dee and Rhyoh's lifebond. This is also a spicier chapter, so if that sort of thing bothers you, don't read on! The next chapter will follow book 2 - so be watching for Berkley and JJ! Thank you VERY MUCH for the reviews on the first chapter. I probably wouldn't have gotten this up so fast, but I was excited to hear what you would say next! smiles! **

**NARRATION**

His eyes opened slowly, lashes grimed to his cheeks with blood. When he could finally see, he found himself lying in a tangled heap in a littered alley, wedged between two overflowing trash receptacles. Hours spent on cold, hard ground made themselves felt when he tried to move and his stomach launched itself into his throat, unsettled by the heavy, rank smell of garbage.

_What the hell happened?_

He tried to get to his feet, but dizziness struck him behind the eyes and a field of dazzling blood-flowers opened inside his brain. He sank to his knees with a curse, holding one hand to his head in order to begin the healing process. The wound itself told him how he'd received it - a sharp blow to the head. But when? From who?

Suddenly, he remembered. He and Rhyoh had been sitting at the bar of _Street CULTure_, a tavern on the planet of Stlenskoe, trying to gather information about the remaining factions of Amerastes' organization. Suddenly, Ryo had been hauled out the door by two men in armor. When Dee had tried to pursue, the world had gone spinning into blackness.

_And here I am. And here Rhyoh _isn't. _This is not good. _

He knew he needed to get on his feet and onto his partner's trail as quickly as possible, but he'd be no good to him in his present state. Curling into a ball, he willed himself into a healing trance. Heat rushed through his skull, repairing damaged blood vessels, mending broken flesh. The bruises on his face drained and faded. Finally, his vision cleared and his brain began to work itself free of the haze.

He stood easily this time, but knew that his strength wouldn't last long. Healing always demanded a price and energy loss would be kicking in soon. Which meant he had to find Rhyoh fast. He made a quick check of his possessions. Clearly those who had taken Rhyoh hadn't held anything against him; his guns and his money were still on his person.

_Not Am, then. He would have wanted both of us. Slavers? Someone with a vendetta against him from a past case? _He made his way out of the alley still wracking his brain, hoping for Rhyoh's safety when suddenly it hit him.

_You found me. I called you to me when I went to find the kid. The bond. _He sent his mind out searching, trying to latch onto the warm, golden feeling that Rhyoh carried with him and bestowed on all those who came in contact with him. Something flickered behind his eyes. The glint of light had been tiny - but very real. A vision? A mental message? Dee couldn't be sure, but it was something to follow. He latched onto it, and headed into the city.

"You fool!" The armored, helmeted man cracked his minion's face with the butt of his weapon. "You brought me the wrong person! Am has a bounty up for Dee Lyghtner - a black haired Keeper! This is a blond! Probably someone he picked up in the bar!"

The minion, a stocky alien with slow-blinking eyes, remained untouched by his master's displeasure. "You said the good looking man at the bar. This is him."

His teeth grated back and forth audibly. "What did you do with Lyghtner? Please tell me you didn't kill him." His voice didn't hold much hope.

"No, no. He's alive. Sarko knocked him out and dumped him in an alley. We can go back and get him, I'm sure."

Grenzmark, renowned and feared bounty hunter, only sighed and wondered why it was so difficult to find good help. "Lyghtner's not a typical human. He's up and gone by now. Probably off planet, unless this one means something to him." His eyes glinted behind the black eye-shields of his helmet. "Hmm. Maybe we can recover Lyghtner after all."

He turned to look at Rhyoh, who was bound to the bed with glowing binders, naked. His minions always undressed their catches so that Grenzmark could make sure they hadn't ruined them. Live bounty meant just that - significant damage was to be avoided and they sometimes got over-excited during the hunt.

Despite the precariousness of his position, his captive had a certain dignity that unsettled the bounty hunter. The man's eyes - multi-colored and dark - held nothing of fear. Grenzmark could never bring himself to trust a man who wasn't frightened when he should be.

"What's your name?"

**RHYOH**

I hesitate for a second or two, then decide that it can't do any harm at this point. At least he doesn't know I'm a Keeper. Dee's reputation for working alone is still holding. "Randor."

Grenzmark approaches me and I have to will myself not to squirm under his eyes. I knew him, instantly, by his armor. Many criminals invest in light-weight metal protection, but Grenzmark wears his mail as if it were the most comfortable and fashionable of suits. I see my eyes reflected in the silvery-blue plate and wonder what sort of man exists inside of that metal cocoon.

I don't know much about Grenzmark; I certainly never figured I'd be in the same room as him. He only goes for the highest bounties... which means that whoever Am answered to really wants my partner dead.

Grenzmark doesn't frequent New Abode, but the Keepers are well aware of him and his activities. I've heard it argued that he's left alive by Keeper high command because some of his procurement work ends the lives of those we would have processed and put in containment anyway. I've also heard that we _can't _catch him.

He eyes me for several minutes, as if trying to decide what methods will work best. I ready myself to hear him call for torture, but he just speaks to me, his voice distorted by a silver helmet shaped into the face of a great falcon. "Do you know the Keeper Dee Lyghtner? Did you come with him to Stlenskoe?"

I shrug, adrenaline surging through me. I'm responsible for this, for the danger my partner is in. I helped bring down Am's organization as much as he did, but more than that, when Cal told me what she'd done... I didn't tell him. I thought I could protect him.

Grenzmark's fingers - sheathed in metal - tilt my head up. I struggle in his grip. "You'd be wise to answer me, little one. I can make things very uncomfortable for you."

I know he's telling the truth, but I just shake my head.

Grenzmark isn't a man to be derailed lightly. "Tell me where he is and I'll let you go - unharmed."

"Sorry." I wish my voice sounded surer than it does, but faint tremors cut through the sound, betraying my fear. Since it was Dee he was seeking and not me, Grenzmark doesn't have any reason to leave me alive - and that's no position to be in with a man who kills for pay.

Happy malice coats Grenzmark's next words; somehow, I've given my hand away. "So you _do _know him. Enough to protect him, even." He turns to his lackey. "Levez, perhaps you can make up for your blundering. Go downstairs and look for Hafren, the owner. Tell him you need tacteverto, for me. Make sure he doesn't ask for reimbursement."

Levez blinks his heavy lids, acknowledging his orders, and makes his way downstairs. There's an owner to this place, then -- and I sort of feel sorry for him, too. I file the information. We must be in some sort of hostel, a public place. Maybe he won't kill me outright, then.

Levez returns a moment later, a thin, golden rod in his thick fingers. A crystal cylinder protrudes from the top, seething with a red-orange liquid. I don't know what it is - but I can guess. Fortunately, I was trained against drugs that induce compulsion and though I jerk away when the needle plunges into my thigh, I'm not afraid.

"It won't work," I tell my captor, confidence surging through me.

His mask hides any expression, but his voice is amused. "No?"

"Compulsion drugs have no effect on me." My heritage helps, too. Full-blooded humans have very low resistance to most drugs, training or no, but half-aliens… that's another matter.

Grenzmark spins the golden tube through his metallic fingers. "This drug isn't as simple as that. Instead, it produces excruciating pain - which can only be relieved by a certain type of stimulation, or a healer. And I'd be only to happy to find someone to heal you - as long as you tell me Lyghtner's whereabouts."

I shake my head stubbornly, bangs falling into my eyes. "No."

"We'll see," says the bounty hunter with a voice that suggests that he's used to getting what he asks for. "But the drug takes time to work, so I'm going to look for your friend. If I find him without your help things won't go so well for you."

With that, he and Levez are gone. I strain against my bonds for a few moments, knowing they won't yield. Then I settle for shifting against the scratchy mattress, uncomfortable without my clothes. I know that Dee won't leave without me and that's the worst kind of knowledge to have. If he tries to save me, he'll be walking right into Grenzmark's hands. In fact, the bounty hunter might find him before he ever finds me.

Unless... I half want to kick myself for even thinking it, but I knew how to find him when he left the Way station and went after Bikky. The rational part of my brain puts up a real fight, and it does have logic on its side. After all, where else _could_ Dee have been? But I saw him in that room. Saw his arm broken at his side. Maybe he can see me.

Grenzmark's words come back to me, "Lyghtner's not a typical human." Maybe this is what he meant - that Dee has some gift for telepathy. I wish he had told me one way or another, but it's the only thing I've got. Relaxing against my bonds, I think of my partner - his deep green eyes always revealing more than his mouth, his dark hair with its crazy purple strands, his way of eating as if he's never seen food before and will never seen it again. I think of anything, of everything, even his kiss - anything that will draw his mind to me. Usually I shy away from any thought of his lips on mine, but I've heard that telepaths center in on people using emotionally-charged memories. Aside from seeing him, alive, after Amerastes took him, this is the most emotional memory I've got. I'm not sure that's a good thing, either…

_Purpling sky, near evening. His back braced against a tree, the leaves a tangle of blue and green on the ground. There's soot on his face, a cut under one eye. His cheek has a bruise across it, like he weathered a punch. He keeps his left arm - the injured one - drawn across his chest, the fingers clenched and white with hurting. He looks out at me from under his bangs and his face is so open, so young. In that moment I want to protect him, to get him to the healers. _

_"I'm not leaving you, Dee. I am your partner after all, aren't I? C'mon. Give me your hand."_

_I don't even see him reach forward, just feel myself going to my knees, drawn in. At first, the kiss doesn't even startle me. His eyes close and his mouth parts just a little and though I know it's wrong to have another man's lips on mine, I'm not fighting. The soft strength of his mouth, the way he offers himself up, eyes closed, vulnerable, gently overcomes all of my defenses. His lips feel like flower petals - something forbidden you'd take in your mouth just to feel the texture. _

_Afterward, we both sit stunned. He blinks at me a few times, expression awed and beseeching. Before I can say anything - and in that moment, I'm not sure what I would have said, he felt so good, - he's hugging me, welcoming me into his life. The bruises on his face seem less serious than they were a moment before - maybe it was the shadow from the tree? - but he insists on going to the healers. _

Dee, please hear me. Please. My eyelids drop and all I can see are green, green eyes.

**DEE**

Two hours into my fruitless search for my partner, I have a lead - right out of the thin air.

"Rhyoh?" His name actually comes out of my mouth, the sending is so strong. What is he, a blinking telepath? But I know better. No one at the Academy ever accused me of having gifts I didn't have - they ruled telepathy out quick, told me I could probably use it when I heal, but that's it. Still, I got him to Am's last time we were apart and it looks like he's going to pull him right to me like a magnet to a piece of scrap. And he doesn't even believe in lifebonds...

Images assault my mind, bursting open and colliding into each other, overlapping. Our introduction, the drive to the Blacklands, finding Bikky and Cal, that kiss... I try to push them away, to grab hold of his thoughts for a minute. I find an alley and kneel like I did at Am's, wishing that if he was gonna have me on my knees this often, he'd put me there for something more entertaining than this.

_**Rhyoh? **_My mind brushes across his like wings in the dark.

_**Dee... hurts. Bikky, Cal - take care of. Sorry**_. His thoughts are fragmented, but I recognize the underlying despair and know he's starting to give up. I can _feel _his pain in my mind. Gods, what have they done to him?

I hold my hands to my head, struggling to speak to him, to reassure him. I wasn't trained in this, and it's difficult. _**Rhyoh, hold on. I'm coming. Where are you, partner?**_

_**Grenzmark. Hotel? Looks like this. **_An image of a plain room shines in my mind, fuzzy at the edges. It's nondescript - could be anywhere. And Grenzmark? The bounty hunter? What the hell would a bounty hunter want with Rhyoh? I try to push the questions out of my mind, to focus on him.

_**Hold on, Rhyoh. When they took you - did you see anything? **_Sweat is rolling down my face. Trying to do this after healing is like trying to dance after having a leg amputated. _**Did they walk? Did they take a transport? **_I know he's on-planet. Even if he was trained in telepathy, he'd have to be one of the legendary Keepers come again to send across space.

_**Owner, Hafrem. Walked, I think. Hit on the head. Dee, Grenzmark. Careful. **_

_**Don't worry about me. **_I smile into his mind. _**Just hang in there. You'll feel better soon. **_

He's fading on me, just a faint glow in my mind, but it's enough for me to follow. I run back through what he told me. Hafren owns the building where he's being held. Man, am I glad to be a Keeper. We devote entire offices to gathering information. I find a communication terminal and dial up the office, heaving a sigh of relief when Gwen answers. This isn't something I want to explain to the Commander, thanks.

"Dee, what have you done now?" she asks. I know she's doing ten other things as she's talking to me, giving me just the tiniest sliver of her attention. She's annoyed at me because I wouldn't get her Rhyoh's phone number. She's not his type though - what could I do? You can't force love, after all.

"Gwen, I need you to look something up for me. I don't have time to argue or to beg - whatever you want, I'll get it, just do me this favor."

She sounds skeptical at best. "Why aren't you calling the research office?"

"I don't really want this on the record, okay?"

"You do a lot of illegal stuff for a Keeper, Dee."

I grit my teeth. "Gwen, come on! I don't have time for this!"

"All right, all right. I didn't realize it was that time of the month again so soon. What do you need, Dee?"

"A list of buildings owned by a Hafren on Stlenskoe. Addresses too."

"First or last name?"

"Don't know." I can still feel Rhyoh in my mind and I'm trying to hold him there. It's like cupping my hands around an ember to shelter it from the wind. I hear keys tapping and a series of exasperated comments about pig-headed Keepers who expect everything handed to them without doing any work themselves, but then she returns to the line.

"I sent them to your wristband. You owe me, Dee."

"I'll pay you back later. Thanks Gwen."

It turns out that Hafren owns a dozen minor properties scattered throughout the planet, but only one matches the picture Rhyoh sent me: a converted warehouse he's using as low-rent living quarters. As I head toward the place, I think back over my partner's words. He's such a softheart when it comes to kids - it doesn't surprise me that his first thoughts were for Bikky and Cal. As if I was gonna let him die and leave me with those two monkey brats!

I remember him saying goodbye to the two of them. One of the girls from the station agreed to watch them while we went out on patrol (we're still trying to find Cal's aunt), because she, like me, couldn't say no to Rhyoh when he smiled. Bikky was all street tough in his backwards cap and basketball shorts. When we left he gave Rhyoh a reluctant hug and a wave and me the finger and a warning about what happens to pervs. Cal kissed us both on the cheek, smelling like springtime and twice as sweet. Rhyoh, of course, was all mister concerned parent - call me if anything happens, make sure they eat, try not to let them play with matches... I thought my warnings were way more practical - keep them away from guns, knives, and people. What? Monkey brats belong in monkey houses in my book. I have to give Rhyoh props though, he is good with them. I can't wait to hear the horror stories when he enrolls Bikky in school this fall. That kid makes me look like a saint.

Finding the building where Rhyoh's being held is easy enough, and standing outside, I can feel the connection between us grow stronger. _**I'm here, **_I tell him. _**Where are you?**_

_**Upstairs. Grenzmark's not here. Hurry. **_His sending is weak, pain-touched.

_**On my way. **_Loosening my guns, I step through the front door, wondering how in the hell I'm going to get to him without being shot.

A heavy-set man sits at a desk in the lobby. He could be security or he could be Hafren himself, collecting rent. His flabby face gives him a jolly appearance, but his eyes are hard.

"Who are you?" he asks me as I approach. My sleeves cover my wristband and my shirt covers my weapons, so there's no sign that I'm a Keeper. Surprisingly enough, we're not well liked among near-criminals and slum lords. Funny, huh?

"I'm working for Grenzmark," I lie, praying he buys it. "He told me to come check on one of his catches." I try to make my voice convincing, edging my words with steel and giving him a don't-mess-with-me stare.

Apparently, the bounty hunter's put some fear into him. "Of course, of course." He's practically bobbing up and down. "Here is the key. Right up the steps, sir."

As I walk away, I try not to tremble. I was gambling on the fact that Grenz would have goons working for him or with him - and the fact that I look like a bit of a shady character myself. As I reach the steps, I have to force myself not to start running, 

**RHYOH**

When the door opens, I expect a helmeted head to peer through, ready to laugh at the pain I'm in. Instead, green eyes meet and hold mine. "Dee!" He's at my side in an instant, eyes searching my body for injuries. There's fear in his eyes as he grasps my hand for a moment, then anger for what's been done to me. As glad as I am to see him, I wish I could get out from under his eyes. Whatever Grenzmark gave me, it's certainly causing me pain... and, ah, swelling, too.

Working to dismantle the cuffs around my wrist, Dee asks, "What the hell did they give you?"

"He called it tacteverto. He said it would cause me unbearable pain."

His eyes search mine. "Has it?"

"Just in my, uh…"

Dee rolls his eyes. "Well, they must not have messed you up too bad," he says teasingly. "You've held onto your prudish ways." He searches the room for my clothes and extends them.

I snatch them out of his hands, eager to cover up my unwanted erection. My shirt just barely hides the bulge, but it'll have to do for now. "I'm not a prude!" I snap. Dee waits until I'm finished dressing, then motions for me to sit down on the bed. "Dee? What is it? We need to get out of here before Grenzmark gets back."

"We've got a minute." His voice frightens me. Once, my parents took me to a planet that had been depopulated by plague. We stood beside a polluted, grey ocean and watched it come back to an empty shore where a few scrub trees huddled. Dee's voice has in it the sound of that lonely sea. He lays his hand on my cheek. "Rhyoh, I have to know, did Grenz... touch you? Did he have any of his men touch you?"

Relief floods through me. So that's it! Dee thought they gave me the drug so they could rape me. I sling an arm over his shoulder to reassure him. "No. No one hurt me, Dee. I'm fine."

"I - I wouldn't have forgiven myself," he says quietly. "If I hadn't gotten to you in time."

"But you did. I knew you'd come for me, Dee."

"You did as much for me," he points out, and I know he's on the verge of asking how I contacted him. It scared me, and it's not something I want to get into.

"Let's try to stay out of these situations from now on," I suggest. "Now can we get out of here before Grenzmark shows up?"

"Can't argue that. Are you okay to walk? We'll get you fixed up after we get back to the Way station."

I nod. "Let's go."

**DEE**

My gun's out and I'm trying to watch all the doors at once as Rhyoh heads down the stairs. I'd rather have gone out a window, but I haven't seen one - cheap rent involves a few sacrifices, I guess. Watching Rhyoh, I can't help but admire him. Whatever else you can say about him, he's great to have around when things get dicey. He never loses his cool and he does what needs done without a lot of dallying.

"There was a guy at the desk," I tell my partner. "I told him I worked for Grenzmark and got by. Did anyone see you brought in? I don't think I'll be able to walk out with one of Grenz's bounties."

Rhyoh peers around the corner without answering, hesitating at the bottom step. "There's no one there now."

Just as well. I don't like having to shoot people for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I do have _some_ principles.

We're out the door quick as can be, and we hurriedly put several blocks between us and the building before we stop in an alley. Once there, we just smile at each other. I know he's thinking that this is only our second assignment and we've already been through two rescue attempts. Hey, at least they were successful. Finally, he offers his hand. "Thank you, Dee."

I eye him skeptically. Did he forget who he was dealing with? "Like I'm gonna let you get off that easy. Come here." If it was anyone else, I'd accept one of those macho, guy-to-guy hugs, pat on the back and release. But it's Rhyoh and we're in an alley and I thought I was going to lose him, so that kind of hug just ain't working for me. I hold him tight along the length of my body, feeling all of him, soft skin and hard muscle pressed against me. The drug Grenz gave him has him fevered and hard and though I know I shouldn't, I lift his mouth to mine and kiss him forcefully, tongue slipping past his lips to get to the wet heat of him.

He's making some sound under my mouth, maybe even saying no, but I finish the kiss. At the end of it, he shoves me back. "Damnit, Dee! I wish you'd stop doing that!"

I know that he's hurt and vulnerable, so I chalk some of his anger up to that. "I'm sorry," I tell him. "I was worried about you, Rhyoh." I'd do anything he asked, but I'll be damned if I'll hide how I feel about him.

**RHYOH**

Damn it! Now his eyes are showing nothing but hurt... I didn't mean to snap at him like that, it's just, hell... being kidnapped, knowing _he's_ the one they wanted, being naked in front of him, the damn drug - it's too much. But he is sorry, I can tell, and I feel nothing but guilt for making him feel that way. "Dee,"

"Come on," he says. "Let's get to the station."

"Won't that be the first place he checks?" I know that I should tell Dee that it's him that Grenzmark wants, but it just doesn't seem like the right time. I've kept something from him and I'm worried over how he'll react... over how he'll treat Cal, too.

Dee shakes his head. "There's a series of underground stations too. Even Grenz won't be able to get into them without giving us lots of warning. Once we're there, I'll contact the Commander and we'll arrange to get off planet as soon as possible."

"Can't say I'll regret putting the place behind me," I say. "Lead the way."

**DEE**

We haven't gone more than a few blocks (darting in and out of alleys to stay out of sight) when I notice that Rhyoh's having trouble walking. I start watching him closer, and sure enough, every few steps his lips tighten and go white, holding back a cry.

"Hurting worse?"

He looks up at me with surprise, probably thinking he was hiding it pretty well. "I, uh,"

"Don't lie to me, stupid. Answer the question."

He makes a visible effort to give me a reassuring smile before trying the lie again. "I'm fine. It's just the drug. I'll be all right."

"When we get to the station, I'll look up an antidote. We're almost there." Privately, I'm hoping there _is_ an antidote. I won't lie, seeing him bound to that bed, fevered and erect, definitely gave me some fuel for future fantasies -- but I sure don't want to see him in pain. The fact that he embarrasses so easy doesn't help matters either. I've never met a man who couldn't (wouldn't, really) say some variation of "penis" --cock, rod, dick, anything. Not Rhyoh, though, he just mumbles and flushes, acts like I've never seen one before. Maybe he didn't register the whole "bi" thing?

Despite our slow pace (I cut my stride to keep from pushing him), it isn't long before we reach a small, stone structure beside the entrance to the underground train terminal. Our bags are in another station, so we won't have any of our stuff, but at least it will be a place to stay. The stone hut looks a little like a toll terminal, and I see my partner eyeing it with suspicion. "How do we get in?" he asks.

"Enter the codes of our wristbands together. It's supposed to have the codes for all Keepers in the computer. It'll clear us."

"I don't even see a computer."

"Of course not. It's made to look like the stone." It takes me a few minutes of poking and prodding, looking over my shoulder for a hawk helmet or unsavory characters that could be in the service of a man wearing a hawk helmet. Suddenly, a view screen appears in the stone, blinking and asking for clearance. I enter my numbers than stand back to let Rhyoh do the same. The stone swings back and we're inside of a tunnel, going down into the earth.

**Rhyoh**

I've never been so glad to see the sparse, mismatched furniture of a way station in my life. Whatever that stuff was, Grenzmark must have given me a pretty big dose of it, because I'm straining against my pants, my penis aching and throbbing in a way that's beyond humiliating. Even without the fever that I know I have, heat would be filling my cheeks.

One of the reasons I yelled at Dee earlier was that, with this drug affecting me like it is, I felt myself giving in to him, almost asking him for what his kiss said he'd like to give me. I didn't miss seeing his eyes go dark when he saw me - I know he wants me. And as hard as I am, I want release... even knowing that letting Dee take me would be wrong.

Shaking off those thoughts, I make my way to the couch and collapse.

"You going to be okay?" I hear Dee ask.

"I can ride it out," I tell him. "It's more embarrassing than anything."

"That's the drug, not you. Look, we're locked in for the night and I'll keep watch. Why don't you take the bedroom and try to get some sleep? I'll see what I can find out about helping you using the computer."

I nod, hating the need burning in me, hating leaving all the work to him. "All right. Make sure you contact the Commander, too."

**DEE**

He was trembling a little when he walked out of the room and it's got me worried. Still, I didn't want him looking over my shoulder while I looked this stuff up. Healers are taught medicine as a back-up plan and though I don't remember learning about tacteverto, the "erto" part (and Rhyoh's fevered state) tells me that it has an aphrodisiac component. Uncomfortable, but not fatal. Unfortunately, that doesn't sound like Grenzmark. Even if he was going to have Rhyoh raped, he wouldn't bother to get him in the mood first. There has to be something else to the drug.

I run the drug through the info-nets twice, heart sinking in my chest, praying that the information I have is wrong. Swallowing hard, I re-read the entry I've found.

**"Tact-ev-er-to**: Commonly called "Demon's Touch." A powerful and illegal aphrodisiac, tacteverto delays orgasm by desensitizing the sexual organs. It is difficult for users of the drug to reach climax through self-pleasuring, allowing for multiple sexual partners. The drug was made illegal following its implication in several male-male rape cases and its use on young pleasure slaves.

The chemicals in tacteverto produce such acute sexual desire that lack of fulfillment can cause severe pain. If a taker of tacteverto does not achieve climax in a certain period of time (usually 12 to 16 hours) the unrelieved tension can cause permanent damage to the sexual organs - especially the seminal vesicles of human and alien males. Damage may include the loss of the ability to achieve an erection."

"Shit!" If Grenzmark were in front of me right now, I'd tear his fucking helmet off and slam his head off of the floor a few times. Sure, that wouldn't do a thing for my partner, but I'd feel better about things.

I check my wristband for the time. Rhyoh was with Grenzmark for eight hours. It took another hour to rescue him and to get here. I'm staring at the blank computer screen as if it has the answer, but the same conclusion keeps ringing in my mind. Finally I push myself to my feet and head toward the bedroom. It's time to tell him the truth.

When I open the door, Rhyoh's lying on the bed, naked except for a sheet, body compressed in pain. When he looks up at me, I see the beginning of tears in his eyes. It's obvious that he's in dire pain. I take a seat on the bed and grasp his arm. "Damnit, Rhyoh, why didn't you call for me?"

He turns away from me, so humiliated that he can't quite meet my eyes. He mumbles something about it looking worse than it is, pulling his legs up to his chest to hide his erection.

I reach out and stroke his head, trying to reassure him. His hair is damp with sweat. "It's just me, Rhyoh. You don't have to be embarrassed with me, okay? You don't have to be afraid."

He looks up at me, trying to be brave. "Did you find anything out about the drug?"

I swallow hard, knowing he's going to fight me. "Yes. It's not good, Rhyoh." Trying not to scare him to death, I outline the effects of demon's touch.

"It didn't work, when I tried to get off," he mumbles when I explain about the numbing of primary erogenous zones.

"I know," I tell him, voice full of sympathy. "The only way you're going to be able to get off is through indirect stimulation." I search his face, asking him with my eyes to understand. "You need help, Rhyoh, and I'm the only one here."

He shakes his head, immediately, just like I knew he would. The fear in his eyes is cutting; it hurts me almost as bad as seeing him in pain. "No."

I hold up a hand to hush him. "Look, I know I'm not what you want, Rhyoh, but there isn't anyone else. If we don't get you taken care of soon..."

He hears the warning in my tone. "What, Dee? What will happen?"

"The drug can cause permanent internal damage. You won't be able to have sex again." The fear springs back into his eyes and I try hard to make my case. "Look, Rhyoh, I have feelings for you - you know that. But that's not why I'm in here, ok? It's not about me, so you don't have to be afraid. Nothing has to change between us, I promise. We'll still just be partners."

He closes his eyes. "No," he says again, softly.

"Being with me won't be bad, Rhyoh." I'm pleading, knowing he needs this. Hell, maybe he grew up thinking that sex between the same gender was wrong, but now if hardly the time to hold on to morals. "I've been with both genders, humans and aliens," I tell him, not as bragging, but hoping to convince him that I know what I'm doing. "I know I could satisfy you."

Seeing two crystal tears roll down his cheeks about has me crying too. I can't hold him down and force him, but it's clear I'm not getting through to him. _Rhyoh, how can I win your trust? _"Nobody has to know about this, Rhyoh. I just want to help you. Can't you trust me?"

He shakes his head, on the edge of sobbing. "I can't, I can't..."

"Rhyoh, you called to me, today, when Grenzmark had you."

He blinks. "What?"

"You heard me. And it's not the first time. I called you to where Am was holding me. We have some kind of connection, Rhyoh." I'm not willing to say lifebond yet. It's clear he's scared to death; scaring him more won't help anybody. "You know it's true," I tell him. "So I'm going to tell you something, okay? It's a secret. Almost no one at the station knows. But I trust you, Rhyoh." I hold a hand out and take his wrist; it's chafed where the binders cut into it. "Watch." The healing I did earlier cost me, but this little injury is nothing. He gasps as he feels the energy surround his wrist, but I hold tight and finish he job. When he holds his wrist up to his eyes, no sign of the redness remains.

"Dee? What?"

I nod to show him that what he's suspected is true. "I'm a magic user, Rhyoh. I can heal. Now, will you let me help you? If you do, I can repair whatever damage has been done up to this point."

"Grenzmark said a healer could help me. Can't you just get rid of everything? Of what the drug's done?"

I give him a bittersweet smile. "Don't you think I would have done it already? That would take a much stronger healer, and I already healed myself once today after I got knocked on the head. Still, I'm at your service if you'll have me." I can see he's going to say no again, and it's more than I can take. "Rhyoh, please, because you're my best friend?"

**RHYOH**

As much as I'm hurting, his last words rip my heart out. "I'm your best friend?" I ask, almost in a whisper. I can't remember the last time someone called me their friend; that word from his lips shocks me much more than his earlier confession.

"Of course," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Didn't you know? Or did you think I'd let just anyone move himself and a couple of chimpanzees into my house?"

I can't help laughing a little, even though it hurts. He sees something in my face (or maybe reads my mind... I guess he can kind of do that, can't he?) and gives me a shocked look. "Why, you arrogant little prick. You thought I let you move in because I wanted you!"

I'm half-giggling despite everything. "You do want me," I point out.

It's the opening he's been waiting for. "I do, but I want to help you more. Let me?"

Knowing it will change everything, I nod once and see his entire body slump, relieved. I didn't realize how tense he was, how hard he was trying to reach me. Usually, the obsessive part of my mind would force him back over the list of conditions he gave - make him promise, again, that this would be our secret... but I need this too much. I need him too much.

He stands, stripping off his weapons holster, his boots, his shirt. I look up at him from under the sheet, aching and afraid, but forced, again, to acknowledge his beauty. Where his face is all sharp lines, the rest of his body is curving muscle - hard and strong. Keepers are supposed to stay in excellent physical condition, but I've rarely met one that did.

He stands at the edge of the bed, looking at me looking at him. "Calm down, Rhyoh."

I swallow hard and restrain a hand that wants to reach for him, feeling anything but calm. "All right."

Wearing only his pants, he lays over me, and my earlier effort not to reach for him falls short. My hands come around him and grip his back, pulling him to me. He called the drug demon's touch and I feel like evil whisperers have filled my mind, urging me toward things I'd never do. The fever burns me, but Dee's hand is still warm on my skin.

"This is going to be okay," he whispers into my hair. "Try and relax."

I shift against him, as if to move away from the pain I'm in, and my erection grinds against his crotch. Need drives me on and it felt good to brush up against him like that, and I feel myself arching beneath him again. I hear him gasp and feel him harden even through his pants. Seconds later, his lips are on mine, mouth opening and closing in desperation. I have to shout down the warning bells in my mind, reminding them that Dee is helping me, that he has to be my lover now, or I'll never have another lover again. He's going to sleep with me for crying out loud - what's a kiss at this point? With that in mind, I kiss him back, and open my mouth to his tongue. I already know he's a good kisser - forceful, but good. But kissing's not enough and I buck against him in frustration, amazed at my body's behavior. I feel like I'm watching myself from far away as I writhe and twist against him, silently begging for his touch.

Panting, I draw away from him. "It still hurts, Dee."

**DEE**

Knowing he's still in pain hurts me as his partner and as a healer... but I'm afraid of moving too fast, afraid of scaring him or hurting him more. But I don't know any other way...

"Rhyoh, turn over."

Seeing his hesitate forces me to give a smile I don't feel - all bravado. I wish I didn't have to do this… I wish I could show him all I feel, touch him the way he deserves to be touched, take it slow and really care for him. But this isn't about pleasure - it's about ending the pain he's in, and I really hate having to use sex to do it, knowing how uncomfortable he is. I try not to worry about whether or not he'll hate me later.

With that in mind, I lift off of him to undo my pants, releasing my erection. I almost feel guilty about having the damn thing - I promised this would be about him - that'd I help him, and here I am wanting him. I try to tell myself that he could want me too, but I know it's just the drug that has him thrusting against me this way. His body's crying out for me sure enough, but I know that his heart doesn't belong to me.

"You're going to have to talk to me, okay?" I tell him. "Tell me if something feels good, what you need," I know I'm half-babbling, trying to calm myself as much as him. "I know it'll be hard for you, but you have to help me out."

Pale with fear and burning with a need he'd rather not have, he's still able to keep a stiff upper lip. "Okay," he says bravely, and I find myself wanting to ruffle his hair.

Kneeling above him, I move my hands to his ass, biting back a moan as he arches into my touch. I try not to want him, to deny how badly I've wanted to touch him just like this, but I'm trembling just the same. I stroke him first, preparing him, but he's shifting underneath me, silently telling me to get on with it. When I judge that he's ready enough, I ease a finger inside.

He gives me a shaky nod. "Yes."

"Shh. Relax." I'm caressing him slowly, moving inside in a slow circle. He's obviously apprehensive, glancing back at me over one shoulder.

"Dee..."

"I know you're scared, Rhyoh, but I'm not going to hurt you. I can't get you off with just my finger though, you know?"

He's nodding but the fear is back in his eyes, he's giving me a led-to-the-gallows look that would make me call it all off if he wasn't in pain. At least I can make this part as painless as possible. Telling him not to go anywhere, I head for the bathroom. Keepers are known for being highly sexual and it doesn't surprise me to find the bathroom stocked with both condoms and lube. I grab the latter and return to my partner, hating myself with every step for what I'm about to take from him.

**RHYOH**

"You still awake?" he asks me with mock cheer.

"I thought you were good at this," I growl at him, frustrated and afraid… and impatient. I know having him inside me is wrong, but the drug has me wanting it all the same. Blaming it on the drug eases my guilt a little and I try to relax as Dee settles over me again.

"Just haven't shown you the good stuff yet, baby." He lifts me gently, propping me on a cushion, caressing my back. I close my eyes tight, bracing myself, as he begins to lubricate his penis. Finished with that, he opens me again with his fingers. I can't help it, I moan. "That feels good," I say, almost to myself.

"Good. Maybe it'll be enough then."

Gently, he moves on top of me, holding himself up with his arms. My body goes tense under him, desire and fear fighting an all-out war -- with me as the battlefield. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead - a gentle and affectionate gesture that almost seems out of place. "Trust me," he says. "I've done this before."

"Go ahead," I tell him, aching. "I can't hurt anymore than I already do."

He kisses me again, surprising me with his mix of tenderness and sensuality, then suddenly he's inside of me. A gasp flies out of my mouth, air leaving my lungs, and (almost against my will) I find myself pushing up against him, bringing him deeper inside of me. Above me, he moans at my response, pushing deeper in. I feel the same energy that surrounded my wrist overtake my body and the pain recedes a little, replaced with the feeling of him.

"Dee..."

**DEE**

I should be weak and limp as waterweeds from the earlier healing, but my powers feel stronger than ever after I enter him, like something in his body is feeding my gifts.

My name in his mouth changes the game entirely and suddenly I'm thrusting hard, no longer worried about whether I'm going to hurt him or not.

"Feel good?" I try to ask, the words almost taken out of me in a cry as he meets my thrusts.

"Yes," he manages, and there's no shame or fear in his tone now - just a need that I'm glad to fulfill.

I've never wanted, never needed, to be inside of someone so badly. I'm going hard and fast now, something I never intended, but he's meeting me every time, moaning, thrusting back against me. I'm healing him as I take him. My best friend, my partner, but right now Rhyoh's the only thing I've ever wanted and I have to have him. If he asked me to stop now I couldn't, though I hold back on my own climax, hoping to give him release.

Time ceases to exist and even though I'm exhausted from the healing and from finding him, I think I could happily keep this up for the rest of forever. Suddenly the spell of the drug is broken and he's crying out beneath me -- a sharp, loud cry, and shaking, trembling, taken by the orgasm. Under mine, his body rocks back over and over. Then he's still, collapsing, panting, his breath coming like sobs.

"Rhyoh? Are you okay?"

"Fine." His voice is a croak.

I should pull out now and go finish myself, but feeling him around me ... maybe he'll help me out and say no. "Rhyoh? Can I... go on? Inside you?"

His voice says he's exhausted, but the words come clear. "Sure, go ahead."

As soon as the words hit my ears, I'm moving inside of him again, losing myself in his body. And under me, I hear him moaning and he's meeting me again - lifting his hips into mine.

"Dee..."

My name again. And it pushes me over the edge in a sweep of white light. I'm coming inside of a man who never wanted me inside of him at all, head thrown back, throat drawn tight on my own cries.

**RHYOH**

"Dee?"

He's laying beside me now, eyes dazed. "I - I think I'm okay now," I tell him. He reaches for my hand and I feel that same energy flow through me again - a testing current this time, assessing damage.

"Yeah," he agrees. "No permanent damage."

"Thank you," I say quietly as shame creeps into my brain. He stands to clean us up and straightens the covers. I'm not sure I could stand if I want to, and when he pulls me into his arms, there's nothing in me left to resist. He just holds me, stroking my hair, and that one tender motion sends tears down my cheeks. I don't mean to cry, but so many feelings are sweeping through me that tears seem like the only outlet.

"Rhyoh? Did I hurt you?" He lifts my head up to look in my eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry," I whisper.

"For what, Rhyoh? You didn't do anything wrong. You were drugged."

"Cal... Cal told that agent that night..." I hate myself for crying as hard as I am, but the events of the day have undercut every strong thing about me.

"What about Cal?" he asks me, still stroking my hair with his large, strong hands as if I was a child he could soothe with a touch.

"She told that agent your name," I finally manage. "To get back her parents' stuff."

He blinks, clearly thrown off-balance. "Huh. I thought she liked me."

"She does, she's just a kid, Dee. But don't you understand - it wasn't me Grenzmark wanted - it was you."

He nods, untroubled. "We'll get off-planet in the morning. I'm going to go try to contact the Commander again. You should get some rest, Rhyoh."

He's already across the room, pulling on his pants. I stare, dumbfounded. "You don't hate me for keeping that from you?"

"Nah," he says with just the barest hint of a smile. "I could never hate you. Best friend, y'know?"

Then he's out the door and I sit staring at the place he was standing for a long time.

**DEE**

Well, that clears up the mystery of Rhyoh's capture. I'm not mad at the girl. Maybe I should be, but... hell, I know how she feels. I'd give a lot to have something that belonged to my parents too, or to know who they were. Besides, I deal with criminals everyday, and even though Grenzmark is big time, one more won't make that much of a difference.

After calling the Commander, I rest my head on the computer desk, assaulted by imagery: his body arched under mine, his eyes dark with need... He's my soul mate, I know it. But he doesn't know it - and probably doesn't want to. I said I'd let things stay the same between us, and I will, but I wonder how much harder it will be to win him now that we have this between us?

I have no trouble staying awake all night to keep watch.

**RHYOH**

Dee's quiet as we head for the spaceport, smoking cigarette after cigarette, deep in thought. I've gained a best friend on this trip... but I'm worried about what last night has done to our partnership. I feel nervous around him now, having shown so much. Halfway to the port, he pulls the rented vehicle over.

"Quit worrying about it," he tells me, cigarette still in his mouth.

"Huh?" I really wish he couldn't pick my thoughts out of the air. When he's connected to me, I can feel him, but he doesn't seem to need that connection to know just what I'm thinking.

"Last night. Stop thinking about it. You were sick, I took care of you. As far as anyone else is concerned, it never happened."

"Our reports," I begin, but he cuts me off.

"You got captured by Grenzmark, fine. You learned, while in his custody, that he wanted me, not you. I paid off one of his goons to betray him and rescued you. End of story."

It's a pretty tidy fabrication - and it would make me feel a lot better, too. Still, I hate to agree to break the rules just for my own personal comfort. When I remain quiet, Dee sighs. "Look, you can tell the Commander the truth if you want to - that you were drugged and I healed you. He'll keep it under wraps. Then everybody wins. He knows I can heal."

"What about Cal?" I ask.

"I wouldn't tell him that. Withholding information on your first assignment is bad form for anyone - he'll think you're picking up tricks from me." He taps out his cigarette. "So, we okay now?"

"Yeah," I agree.

"Friends?"

"Friends."

He smiles and returns the vehicle to the road.

**DEE**

There's no one around as we approach the ship, and I couldn't be happier. That is, I couldn't be happier until a metallic voice rings in my ear.

"Hold it, Lyghtner."

The Commander had promised us a surveillance team for when we were ready to leave the planet; Grenzmark's no one to mess with, but I don't see anyone. We're alone with a bounty hunter. And not just any bounty hunter, but one with the resources to seal off the spaceport for his own purposes. "Shit!"

"Drop your weapons, Keepers," he says. Our guns clatter to the floor in time; we both know better than to contemplate a firefight with Grenz.

To my surprise, he turns toward Rhyoh. "So your partner set you free, did he? I trust you both had an enjoyable evening."

I'm shaking with rage now. He can step on my toes any day of the week, but bringing Rhyoh into it is a mistake. As I launch into a string of curses, I hear Rhyoh address the bounty hunter quietly.

"Grenzmark, you're wasting your time with Dee."

Having a gun trained on both of us and thugs in the shadows makes metal-face surprisingly eager for conversation. I doubt he gets much; "please don't kill me" hardly counts. "Why do you say that?"

"You could get much more for me."

The helmet chokes off the sound of his laughter, transforms it into a harsh ringing. "Really?"

I'm looking at my partner wondering if he's gone 'round the bend. His voice is icy calm and fearless. "A few years ago, you lost a bounty. It was out on a Keeper who had killed your main client Jaborn Laquell, the drug lord. His father didn't take well to his death, did he?" Now his voice is saying crazy stuff and I'm gaping.

Grenz has gone stock-still, listening.

"He didn't take well to you losing the Keeper either."

A growling sound comes out of Grenz's helmet. "And you're telling me that you're that Keeper?"

Rhyoh simply nods.

"What's to stop me from taking you and your partner? You're unarmed."

Ryoh shrugs, revealing grace even in that small gesture. "If you try that, we'll resist and one of us will likely get shot. If you let Dee go, I'll come with you.""Rhyoh! What the hell are you doing?" I don't even bother to hide the panic in my voice. I mean, come on! This is the same guy that hurt him!

**RHYOH**

I see the sharpshooters getting into position all around us, and I'm the only one who's not surprised to see the first shot take out one of Grenzmark's assistants. Within moments, his helpmates are dead around him, and the other Keepers are closing in. I doubt they'll catch him; he's escaped from worse, but it's enough for me that Dee and I are unharmed.

As I hand him back the weapons he discarded I have to smile at his gaping-fish look. "What the... what the hell?" he finally manages. "What was that?"

"The Commander sent me a message on my wristband," I explain. "I knew back-up was close. I just needed to keep Grenz from putting you on his ship."

"So it was a lie?"

I laugh. "Of course. My past isn't that interesting!" That's a little bit of a lie too... but those are dark waters that I'd rather not tread.

Dee shakes his head. "Whew! You had me fooled." His face screws up in puzzlement. "Of course, he's gonna be gunning for you too, now, you know that?"

I shrug, answering him the same way he answered me earlier. "Welcome aboard, partner," I say jokingly.

Smiling, we walk toward the ship, ready to leave Stlenskoe far, far behind us.

BACK HOME

**DEE**

Well, the debriefing did not go well. We had virtually nothing to show concerning the remainder of Am's operation... and now we're both wanted men. Not just that, but Ryo had a hard time meeting my eyes... I know the memory of what Grenz did to him - hell, what _I_ did to him, is still bothering him.

That's why I'm sitting here contacting his wristband every few minutes, trying to get him to come talk to me, even if he's not ready to stay with me by himself. He mentioned something about Susie having the kids, so it'd just be us at the apartment. The moons are all in lilac shades tonight and the city streets glow as if under new snowfall, so I don't mind sitting on a park bench alone.

Finally, his voice answers. "Clarion."

"Rhyoh, it's me."

"What's up, Dee? Do we have a case?"

It's always work with him. Never a "how ya doin'" or "want to get together for drinks?" "No," I say after a moment. "I was just wondering if you could meet me tonight."

I know he's hesitating, but finally he agrees. "All right. Where?"

"I'm at the Glass Court section of the park."

"Okay, give me a few minutes."

"See you then." I thumb the wristband off, satisfied, and watch the horizon where the last pink light of the setting sun is still trying to get a few words in before it becomes dark.

**RHYOH**

Bikky and Cal are still with Susan tonight, so I head home to my small station-assigned room instead of going back to Dee's place. I need to gather up some things anyway... and I still feel a little uneasy, since so many things have changed between us. Mostly I just want time to think about things: his powers, the way his mind can talk to me across distance... what he did to save me.

I will miss the kids though. We got back late in the afternoon and Susan said she wouldn't mind having them one more night, and they were watching a movie anyway, so I didn't press. I did get to talk to them though and it sounds like they had a really good time -- and didn't destroy anything too valuable. Susan may have just promoted herself to a permanent position...

I don't know why I agreed to meet with Dee, though he has been on my mind. I can't stop thinking about that night - how right he felt, and how wrong it was to be in his arms. And he's a magic user, too! That's a whole other... well, not problem, exactly, but issue. I've never trusted magic, ever since... I push the memory away, hard. Now's not the time to go back over that ground again.

I talked to the Commander like Dee suggested, just to set the story straight. He was surprisingly understanding about everything... but I still omitted the effects of the drug. Just as I was about to leave, I said, a little accusingly, "You never told me that Dee was a magic user, Sir."

"He hasn't been doing irresponsible things with his gifts, has he Clarion?" There was genuine concern in his voice; he values Dee, for all the trouble he causes.

"No," I reassured him. "I just didn't realize that about him."

"Is it a problem for you? I can have you assigned to a different partner."

I hate to think it, even now, but that was part of why I brought it up. I was hoping to put some distance between us, to run. But then, Dee's face came to my mind, his eyes pleading to help me, then those same eyes - wounded by my behind-the-back rejection.

"No," I'd said. "No, Sir. Dee and I are a good team."

It was true then and still is as I see my partner sitting alone on a park bench. He's looking down the street in the other direction and I stop for a moment to watch him. The light around him is pale pink, and white flowers from the nearby trees have dropped small petals in his hair. It should be a painting, him sitting like that, waiting... for me. _Waiting for Rhyoh_, they'd call it, and I smile at the thought before chasing it from my mind. _He's my partner, nothing more. That hasn't changed - won't change. _

I take a seat next to him soundlessly and he turns to me with a smile of greeting. He always smiles when he sees me, like he's surprised I've come, and glad to have me under his eyes again. "Hey."

"Hey," he says back, but even in that one word I hear an undercurrent of sadness. "I wanted to ask you something, Rhyoh."

I feel myself tense, bracing myself for words that I won't be able to acknowledge. _Rhyoh, I know I said things wouldn't change between us, but..._ "Sure," I say, trying not to sound apprehensive.

"Do you want me to transfer?"

They aren't at all the words I expected. "Transfer? Why?"

"Because of what happened. It would be easy for me - Gwen keeps most of my black marks out of my permanent file."

I shake my head at him, firmly. "No, Dee. I'm an adult. I can handle it."

"O-okay," he says, obviously on his way to a harder question. He stares straight ahead as he asks it, avoiding my eyes. "Do you want another partner?"

"No."

He turns to look at me, hope making an appearance in his face. "And you'll still be my friend?"

I have to laugh at him. He looks like a little kid who knows he's done wrong, but dearly hopes to be allowed back into his parents' good graces. "Of course. You brought me out here for that?"

"Yeah, well," he tosses his head a little, clearly embarrassed. "Well, you were acting kinda jumpy and I didn't want things to get all funny between us. Sue me for caring."

I chuckle and punch him lightly in the arm. "_Thanks_ for caring, Dee. We start work early tomorrow, though, so why don't you go get some rest, okay?"

"All right." I know by his easy agreement that the trip was as hard on him as it was on me - he's clearly worn at the edges. But before we go our separate ways, he hands me a small box. "I got you something."

"What is it?"

He shrugs, giving a devilish smile. "Take it home, open it, and find out."

"W-well, thanks, then," I stammer, but he turns away from me to walk home, waving me off.

"Don't thank me." He waves, once, from under a streetlamp. "Get home safe, Rhyoh."

At home, I open the small, blue box slowly - curious and fearful at once. Inside is a dark blue orb suspended from a thin, golden chain. At first, there doesn't seem to be anything special about it, but then I lift it out. When the light catches it, the orb sparkles, and slowly a section of space appears inside the blue. The last thing to appear is a small red and gold planet.

"Nadj," I whisper quietly into my apartment, recognizing the sphere before its name appears across it in tiny golden letters. It's about the size of a small pebble, but the replication is perfect. Nadj.

"Home."

I sit down without looking, wondering how he knew, how he found out. Finding no answers, I lift the necklace over my head and settle my birth planet in the hollow of my throat. It doesn't really matter how he knew - just that he cared. As much as he exasperates me and despite what we've been through, I think I'm going to like having Dee Lyghtner for my partner.


	3. Chapter 3

HeartShy Chapter 3

SinnamonGirl

Disclaimer: Fake belongs to Sanami Matoh... and a few items within have been inspired by other writers too (Mercedes Lackey, Wendy and Richard Pini).

Thanks for supporting this story, guys! I'm trying to update as quickly as I can! Apologies for keeping some things very much Earth-like, but I didn't want to complicate things by renaming food and money all of that little stuff! Earth people did the colonizing anyway - no reason they wouldn't have taken hot dogs and hundred dollar bills with them:)

Thanks to my newfound and wonderful beta: Aindel S. Druida! J

**RHYOH**

I absentmindedly close my small suitcase and run my hand over the top, checking the clasps. Part of me can't believe I've agreed to go on this trip. After six months at the 13-&-6 station, the vacation will be a welcome one. I hadn't even considered taking a break yet (my last job insisted on receiving at least 18 months work prior to permitting any kind of long term vacation) but the Commander insisted.

"It's one of my policies," he'd said. "I know you're a hard worker, Clarion, but it's not good for anyone to see blood and death and pieces of bodies day after day without rest. You won't hear me say it often - but go enjoy yourself."

What _really _surprised me was that Dee somehow managed to secure the same vacation time for himself. When he told me about it he was smiling his triumph and he looked like he'd really gotten away with something. Maybe it was the smile that made me say yes when he told me knew of a great vacation spot, and invited me to go with him. It's hard to say no to Dee when he smiles like that, completely banishing every other memory I have of him bleary eyed and growling, late for work, or sulking over some much-deserved reprimand from the Commander - or from me. And maybe I said yes because, despite the fact that he's kissed me, I do enjoy his company. And yet...

Ever since I met my partner, everything's become brighter, heightened. But I can't sleep a lot of the time, and I can't get away from thoughts of him. I don't know how it happens. I'll just be laying there in the dark of my new place after making sure that Bikky is tucked in safe, and my mind will wander away to him. It was worse when we were staying with him, but even now, across the city (I'm living in Starryton and he's in Lingerlight) it sometimes seems like his mind brushes mine, just like it did on Stlenskoe. It's not words now - just feelings that I associate with Dee - excitement, an edge of danger, and the knowledge that no matter what, he'll be unshakably at my side.

In the six months we've been working together, he's upset me in virtually every way possible. When he promised to keep things the way they were between us, I didn't realize he meant the _kisses_ too. At least he has the good sense (if that's what it is) to try to kiss me when no one else is around. Not that he makes a secret of his feelings in front of anyone, but everyone knows I'm not interested.

He's also caused me to do more work than I've ever done in my entire life. He pawns paperwork off on me, leaves things half-finished, and generates more work through his crazy methods. Doing things by the book is apparently completely beyond him.

At the same time, he's saved my life more than once. He might be an unconventional Keeper, but he's a good one. While working on a recent case, we were surrounded by a group of gang members. I was completely surprised to learn that Dee could shoot his guns with both hands -- it was like a cliché out of an Earth movie about the Wild West. And he covered me the whole time, placing his body between me and the gunfire. More than that, it's the little things he does that really get me, like the necklace that rests in the hollow of my throat. He never said anything more about it, but I haven't taken it off. He shows such a different side of himself to me, more than he gives to anyone else. With the rest of the world he's tough, cocky, even foolhardy. But sometimes, when he looks at me, all I can see in his eyes is concern and care... and I have to turn away. No one else has ever looked at me like that, and I just don't have an answer to the question in his eyes. 

**DEE**

Six months of writing reports on gang wars and drug deals gone wrong. Six months of scratching my head trying to come up with answers when the evidence all pointed to nothing. Six months of the Commander chewing me out every other day. Six months of the alarm getting me out of bed after spending a late night with Dragen and Tieg, then guzzling coffee all day while my partner shoots me dark looks. But today makes it all worth it.

The sun is a hazy white ringed with orange, speckling everything with gold and tangerine light. The sky is blue enough to steal your breath right out of your mouth, and I find, for once, I'm not even smoking. There's no stress or tension in me even as I navigate the stop-and-stop-some-more city traffic. I'm not on the clock today and the only thing I have to reach is Rhyoh's apartment, up in the Highlands - the fancier part of the city.

He and Bikky moved up there a couple of months ago and the old apartment just hasn't been the same. I find myself sitting in the top lighthouse a lot, looking out over the city towards his new home. Bikky used to sit up there with me sometimes - Rhyoh never could get him to stick to a normal sleep schedule - and we'd call a ceasefire long enough to watch the stars wheel and change. He's seen so much that it always makes me forget how young he is - just a boy, really. He'd tell me some about his life then, about the sister he lost. In return, I found myself giving a little of myself, telling him things about my past that I have yet to reveal to my partner, not knowing how he'll take them. It's understood between Bikky and me that our night conversations are just between us. The rest of the time, he's still a monkey brat - getting between me and Rhyoh at every would-be opportunity.

As for Cal, she managed to find her aunt. Talk about tearful reunions! The woman was just shaking and crying, saying Cal was all the family she had left, and she'd thought that she was lost too. They're doing well together, and Cal humors Celeste by letting her treat her like she's just a young girl, when it's a woman's wisdom I see sometimes, shining in her face.

After hearing a dumbed-down version of our Stlenskoe adventure, she apologized to me for what she'd done. All this time, practically no one's given a damn about me and here was this girl in my arms, pink hair flying all over the place, asking for my forgiveness. How could I say no? And of course, I got to tease the brat about it - 'cause he hasn't gotten to hold her yet. Of course, unlike Rhyoh, who stays happily oblivious to such things as hormones, I know the day isn't far. Maybe _she_ can civilize him a little bit!

As for my partner, I think he's okay now. He's no longer so damn jumpy around me, and let me tell you, I'm relieved. I was worried that that little incident was really gonna mess him up. See, he's the sensitive type, Rhyoh, and as much as the feel of him was unlike any other lover I've ever been with, I hated to touch him, knowing I wasn't what he wanted - who he wanted. For all that, I don't think that incident _totally_ trashed my chances with him... He doesn't initiate anything, but a couple of times when I've kissed him, I almost felt him warm up to me. Sure, he gets all flustered and angry afterwards, but I'm still holding out some hope. And we're going to be alone together for this vacation, too! Who knows what I could make happen??

Trying not to drool at thoughts of a naked and willing Rhyoh, I turn my mind to the other obstacle between us: magic. I know magic makes a lot of people uncomfortable because they don't understand it -- but Rhyoh's Academy trained, so that doesn't make sense. Everyone's exposed to at least one course that outlines the different types of magic one might run into, their strengths, how often they show up in the human and alien races. Of course, some people go through those courses just nodding and rolling their eyes - and he _did _say he didn't believe in the stuff. But there's a whole division of Keepers that deal with just magic-based crimes. You can't tell me that he's not aware of them - I just don't buy it.

It seems more like he doesn't _want _to believe in magic, like he's happier in a world where it doesn't exist. Lots of people have tried that trick with me - about magic, about different races, about my sexuality -- I always enjoy shaking them out of their little Fantasy Lands. But with Rhyoh, I just watch closely, trying to find some reason why magic bothers him so much. You see, maybe I wouldn't care otherwise, but I'm pretty proud of my gift, and I worked hard to develop it. Especially after the one time that it didn't work... but that's another story. I want him to accept my powers because I want him to accept _me_. But I guess the only thing I can do is keep an eye on him and hope he eventually trusts me with whatever's bothering him. Gods know, I haven't told him everything yet either...

Overly-punctual as always, my partner is already waiting for me on the white and glittering sidewalk, small suitcase at his feet. I feel a twinge of guilt for making him wait, but it all goes out the window when he smiles at me and gets in the car. For a week - a whole week - Rhyoh Clarion is all mine!

**NARRATION**

Turning from the crowded street where she was deciding which pockets might be the easiest to relieve of their holdings, Callista caught sight of a familiar head of platinum hair tucked up under a red baseball cap. Bikky was weighted down with food from the street vendors, munching a sandwich with one hand while trying to balance a ridiculously tall and wispy cylinder of cotton candy with the other.

"Bikky!"

He practically lost hold of his feast when she called his name, but then flashed a smile and trotted over. "Hey, Cal. What are you doing downtown?"

"Celeste is doing some shopping, so I came with her to 'shop' too." She gave a mischievous grin and batted her lashes prettily.

Unperturbed by such a low-level crime as picking pockets (even a girl could do that), Bikky asked, "How much didja get?" Finishing his sandwich, he tried to shove the rest of the food into an already overstuffed bag.

"About fifty. There were lots of cards, but I don't mess with that. Too easy to get caught."

"Yeah, and Rhyoh'd skin you if he found out, too. You promised him, you know."

She put her hands on her hips. "And he'd be okay with you roaming the streets alone? Aren't you supposed to be on vacation with him and Dee anyway?"

Bikky shuffled his feet against the pavement. "Yeah," he said finally. "But, uh, something came up."

Cal could guess just what had come up - part of Dee's anatomy! "Such as?"

Bikky leaned back against a building. "If I went, they wouldn't have any 'alone time,' y'know?"

Cal knew that Rhyoh wouldn't have asked for alone time with his would-be ravisher. "How much did Dee give you?"

"I took it easy on him - took a couple hundred." When Cal gaped, both surprised and impressed, he found himself trying to justify parting that perverted fool from his money. "Look, he lives alone. What's he gonna spend it on anyway?"

"Food, rent, that kind of stuff."

"If you think making Dee work a few extra shifts bothers me, you're soooo wrong."

"But what about Rhyoh," Cal pressed. "You just sold him into serious danger - for cheap, too!"

Bikky waved her off. "No way. Rhyoh's way tougher than he looks. Dee won't get away with anything." He knew that Dee would try, of course, but Rhyoh hung out with the creep, so that was Rhyoh's business. It's not like the blond detective couldn't tell what Dee wanted. Bikky had caught him drooling outside of the bathroom a few times while Rhyoh showered - and promptly injured him. In a way, he was gonna kinda miss living with the perv. He did keep things interesting.

Cal wasn't satisfied. "But Dee's gonna push and push and finally, eventually..." she trailed off, letting her silence speak.

Bikky shuddered, disgusted. "No way. No friggin' way."

Removing some of her hard-won money, Cal laid a five on the pavement. "Five bucks says Dee nails him."

Bikky's eyebrows shot up. "How would we know?" Then he thought about it for a moment; Dee would be dancing on top of buildings more than likely. Cal was clearly thinking the same thing, because they said simultaneously, "We'd know." Digging into his pocket, Bikky pulled out the last of the money Rhyoh had given him for food and matched her five. "Five bucks that says Rhyoh shoots him down - _again."_

There was nothing Cal hated quite so bad as being challenged - and by a boy no less. Her features tightened with adolescent anger. "Fine!"

"Fine!" Bikky shot back. It was a bet he was looking forward to winning.

**RHYOH**

Dee complained the entire trek to the cabin - even though he was the one who suggested that we stay in the area in the first place. Rolling my eyes at him, I make my way to my room to unpack, leaving him to grumble to himself. He's the only person I know who'd go to a secluded nature park (miles of woodlands tucked into the heart of the city proper) and then complain about the lack of parking. The walk wouldn't have been so hard on him if he wasn't wearing those pointy boots he favors so much. I don't even know where he found the crazy things - they make me think of Westerns, where they show the sheriff and the bad guy come strolling into town. The camera always starts with their boots walking across the dusty ground, then flicks to their guns.

The owner of the hotel, Raslin Henrik, seemed pleasant enough. He explained that it's the off-season, so we have the grounds pretty much to ourselves. "Perfect for skinny-dipping in the lake," Dee whispered to me afterwards. That man's mind just _gravitates _to the gutter. I swear that all he thinks about is sex.

Stepping out on the balcony adjacent to my room, I throw my hands over my head in a luxurious stretch, and admire the view. I admit I was skeptical when Dee suggested Greymaple Lake... but the area is beautiful. Trails cover the grounds in every direction and I can't wait to go out exploring. It will be nice to feel the earth under my feet instead of the pavement - to listen for bird calls instead of gunshots.

Below me in the courtyard, a figure strolls by. I probably wouldn't notice him, but he's not walking with the easy stride of a man on a pleasure trip, enjoying himself. All Keepers are taught to assess body language - and his body is tensed, alert, his eyes sweeping the area like... well, like a Keeper's. Suddenly, those eyes lift, and his gaze pierces me through. I know, as he looks up, that he's evaluating me, tallying me head to toe.

He's a tall man with sandy hair. His clothes look like they walked right out of the latest fashion pages, and their make says "expensive" almost out loud. Thin, fashionable frames sit low on his nose, making his eyes seem even larger than they are. There's no warmth in their brown depths, merely appraisal, as if he files everything he sees before reacting to it. His mouth is a thin, hard line - emotionless - as he stands, head lifted, just watching me. I feel like some small, scurrying thing caught in the golden circle of prey-bird's eyes. A moment later, he releases me, and continues on his way.

Then Dee's there, asking me to come down to the lake, telling me that Raslin keeps boats on the property that we can use to go out on the water. I follow, that man's image burned on my mind.

The lake is a beautiful dark blue color - almost like the space-blue in my necklace. You can see almost to the bottom and fish swim in and out of the shadow that our small craft makes on the water. As always, I set out with a goal in mind: I'd like to see the far shore of the lake before we get back. Supposedly, there are all kinds of different species of wildlife in the area, and the lake's edge makes a good nesting place for certain kind of birds and reptiles. But soon enough, I'm paddling slower, watching Dee lean over to look at the different fish, his paddles long since abandoned. The purple highlights in his hair glitter in the light.

"Dee, why the purple hair?" I ask his back.

"Hmm?" He turns and fusses with it, suddenly self-conscious. "Does it bother you?"

"No, I just wondered what made you do it. Don't you worry that people will..." I don't want say 'look down on you' or insinuate that his behavior is immature exactly... "that people won't," I begin again, "take you seriously?"

He dips his hands into the water. "I'll wash it out right now if you ask me to."

"No, I just think people see purple hair and think,"

"People like you?" he asks softly. "Decent, respectable people?"

I sigh, exasperated. He makes things so hard sometimes. "Quit pushing me up against a wall, Dee!" I don't know why the words come out quite that way - we're supposed to be having a good time.

He shrugs. "Okay." After a moment he adds, "I'd do anything you asked. You have to know that by now."

I almost ask him to stop talking like that, but he goes on, "Except give you up." His fingers rake through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "I wish you'd take me as I am, but if you won't, I'll try to be what you want."

I mean to protest, to say that he doesn't have to change or prove anything to me, but the words never come, and I paddle on.

**DEE**

I dip my fingers into the lake, distorting my reflection. I've always been told that I was good looking, and since enough people told me, I never had any real trouble believing it - until I met Rhyoh. Now... I just don't know. I wish I knew what he felt about me one way or another - if he thinks anything at all. I mean, he doesn't straight up shut down my advances... but he doesn't make any of his own, either. He means so much to me, and he makes me feel like... well, like it doesn't matter if I stay or go. I'm an expendable part of his life.

I look up to see him paddling lightly. I should probably be doing the same, but I'm content to drift with him like this, no destination, no worries. "It's been awhile, huh?" I ask him.

He looks up, eyes wide. _I wonder if he means..._ "Huh?"

"Being together like this, outside of work," I explain, smiling at him. Our case load, his move, taking care of Bikky and finding Cal's aunt have all worked to keep us on our toes - so we haven't gotten to hang out in awhile, to just visit. Seeing him at work just isn't the same.

_That's just what I was thinking! _ "Yeah, it has."

I know that he'll make nice, neutral conversation all afternoon if I let him. He'll tell me about Bikky's latest escapades, station gossip, and what he's reading. He won't tell me anything about himself, though - not anything beyond the surface stuff, anyway - and he sure as hell won't tell me what he feels about me, even after what I said when he made the hair comment. Looks like I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands. Uhmm, I'd like to take _his_ matters into my own hands. Uh-oh. Dirty thoughts. Alone with Rhyoh. Not good.

I scoot closer to him, to stare into his eyes. I'm half-bent over him and I see his eyes widen in surprise, his hands loosen on the paddles. "W-what is it, Dee?"

Usually, being direct isn't a problem for me. I've been shot down lots of times and lived to tell the tale. But with him, it's different. If he says no, I know it'll hurt me. Because of that, the words don't come out like I want them to. "So, uh, well, umm... how do you feel about me?"

In classic-Rhyoh mode, he repeats the question back to me. He does that a lot when he's nervous. "How do I feel about you?"

"I really, really like you, you know," I tell him, leaning closer. There, can't get much more direct than that.

He's looking at the water like it offers an escape, babbling something about tipping the boat.

"What about you?" I ask softly, putting my heart on the line with three words.

His eyes become wide and troubled. "Dee..." Then he looks away. "I..."

I lean closer, until I can practically kiss the top of his bent head. I don't mean to push him, but I need this so badly. Just give me something, man, anything! "Yes, Rhyoh?"

Suddenly, pain comes screaming through my chin. That dick whacked me with a paddle! A slap would have been sufficient! He's, of course, totally oblivious to my cries of pain.

"Hey, do you see that? Out there - something red."

I seethe, unwilling even to look. Bastard. He didn't have to hit me just to avoid the question. "So what is it, you jerk?" I ask after a minute. "Is there a body floating around or something?" Typical Keeper thing - to see bodies where there's only a pile of shadows or trash.

"I think so," my partner says quietly.

I can't fucking believe it. We go on vacation and the murders go too? "You think so? What the hell?"

He points to a group of reeds. The water around their bases is red, and something lilac and white is tangled in the grass, bobbing in the water. "Doesn't that look like a person to you?"

Yes, it does - but why does he have to be fucking Sherlock Holmes about it? Anyone else could have spent the whole day on the lake without finding a murder victim, or a suicide, or whatever - but not Rhyoh! And now I'm never gonna know how he feels about me. "All right," I concede. "Let's go contact the frickin' local authorities." Talk about a lovely start to our vacation...

**RHYOH**

Dee growls and grumbles all the way back to the hotel, then growls some more when I insist that we wait for the local authorities downstairs. Our host is completely flustered that something like this could happen in the area, and he hopes aloud that he won't have to close down the hotel, though he says he understands if we don't want to stay.

Dee is Mr. Tactful as usual. "We see hacked up people all the time," he mutters into his coffee. "If I let this one ruin my vacation, they'll win, ya see? And I ain't having that." His command of the language always disintegrates with his good moods. I know it's all an act - he actually has a way with words, if you spend enough time with him to catch it, a sort of biting poetry- all song and fangs. Of course, he always has an annoying habit of using those words to press for information. I can't believe he asked that today! Then again, maybe I'm just surprised he waited that long. I'm still not sure what I was going to say. He has to know that I'm not gay...

Right then, the local law officers arrive, bristling a little when they find out we're Keepers. I can understand that, I guess. We are the guys that get called in when they can't handle their job, after all. Their questions are brief, to the point, and they give us the same sort of information they'd give the press: Young alien girl, lilac hair, green eyes, probably 17 or 18. She was killed an hour before we found her - a series of stab wounds from behind.

As we leave the lobby to go back to our rooms (who knew we'd need a break from the excitement of our vacation?) I can't help but wonder if the local law enforcement will get justice for that girl. To die that young... she was just a little bit older than Cal. I turn over reasons for her death in my mind. Crime of passion? Random attack? Wrong place / wrong time? And why use the lake as a dumping place? Anyone would know that the body was going to rise to the surface.

"Hey Rhyoh?" Dee asks at my shoulder.

"What?" Just as I turn, he pokes at my cheek with a frown.

"What was that for?" He's so weird sometimes...

"We're on vacation," he reminds me. "You get to do goofy stuff on vacation! Especially to partners who won't let go of a case that isn't even ours."

I hate when he sees through me like that.

"Leave the sleuthing to the local authorities," he suggests, patting me on the shoulder as he turns toward his room. "Or I might poke at you with something bigger than a finger..."

The words bring the usual flush, and I shut the door on him, wishing he didn't tangle my emotions quite so often.

**DEE**

I've been waiting for moonrise since we got back from the lake, a bottle of wine chilling in my room, lying on my bed and fantasizing about him - just a few doors down the hall - and resting up so I'd be in top form tonight. Sure, I know he didn't say anything very encouraging on the lake - but it's nighttime now and I know he's been alone. No mention of a date since he came to the station, no nothing. Maybe sometime nighttime company will appeal to him - even holding him would be fine with me.

Okay, fine. That's a lie. I want to rock his socks off. I want to show him a man in his prime. I want to love him up and love him down and sideways and this might just be my chance! There's no one here to interrupt us. No Chief. No Cal. And - and this is the best part - my ultimate irritant, that little brat Bikky, is also not around! I wonder what he ended up telling Rhyoh to get him to leave him at home. Whatever it was, that two hundred bucks was completely worth it to keep him out of the picture. Sure, I won't be coming home with a Greymaple Lake t-shirt -- but I might get something better...

Stepping out the door, I vow that tonight he will be mine!

He answers on the first knock. "Come on in, it's open."

"You still up?"

"Well, yeah," he says, closing the book he was reading. Who the hell reads on vacation? "It's way too early for sleep."

Agreed. Sleep would be a waste of this perfect, perfect night. I display the wine with a wink. "How about a nightcap?" I knew that Rhyoh would never be the drink-til-you-forget-your-name-type, but a glass of wine seems right up his alley.

He gives me that best-friend smile that always makes me so fluttery. "Sure, why not? The moons are all out tonight - why don't we drink on the balcony?"

Even better. Let him get some moonlight in his skin and maybe he'll lose some of his inhibitions. A few moments later, we're clacking the delicate glasses (which I thoughtfully packed) together. "Cheers."

"Cheers," he answers.

"Wait a second - what are we drinking too?"

"Oh yeah - you're supposed to pick that before the whole 'cheers' thing huh? What do you think?"

Personally, I'd like to drink to sitting at his side under the moon, watching the light caress his face, but I'm pretty sure that'll get me shut out on the balcony by myself. It doesn't seem like a good place to sleep. "How about we drink to our trip?"

"Sounds good. Speaking of which, I'm surprised Bikky decided not to go with us. He was all excited a couple of weeks ago."

I swallow hard, hoping he doesn't suspect me. "Uh, yeah... well, you know kids. He probably didn't want to come because Cal couldn't tag along. Those two are tight."

He buys it - whoo! "Yeah, I guess. I'm surprised we could arrange this trip. I didn't think we'd have our vacation at the same time."

Taking a swallow of wine to calm my nerves, I say, "Yeah, you wouldn't believe the begging that went into that."

It's not a pleasant flashback for me. I guess you could say that I'm just not the down-on-my-knees groveling type. But sure enough, when I saw the schedule and realized I'd be working alone for a week, I knew I had to do something. That something just so happened to be begging on my knees, while shaking the Commander's desk for emphasis. He ran the whole gamut of insults: asshole, bastard, crack head, dolt, etc, but he gave me the time off.

Realizing what I said, Rhyoh does his question thing again. "Huh?"

What? Does he think I'm beyond begging for him? Shit, that was nothing. It's not like Brushface hasn't given me an earful before.

Not wanting to deal with the whole my-partner-has-feelings-for-me thing, Rhyoh changes topics on me. "Say, Dee, about that body we found this afternoon,"

I groan. Dedication is one thing but this is ridiculous. "Please, not that again. We're on _vacation. _People don't talk murder on vacation."

"Just listen to me a second," he insists. "There's something I forgot to bring up during questioning."

Huh. That's not like Rhyoh at all. "What's that?"

"Right before we found that girl, I saw a man standing in the courtyard of the hotel. He was heading up toward the building, away from the lake."

Really not like Rhyoh. I find myself pointing out the obvious. "He might have been a witness. Or better yet - the perp. Why didn't you -"

He jumps in, cutting me off. "I don't know. His eyes were so sharp... he had this piercing gaze. I guess it left an impression on me. I-I don't know quite how to say this, but I just knew he couldn't have anything to do with the crime. I guess that's why I didn't bring it up."

But he's bringing it up now, to me, and it sure as hell sounds like he's romanticizing this "stranger in the courtyard" thing. And I don't like it. Not quite knowing how else to get through to him, I push him down onto the stone of the balcony.

"Dee! What are you doing?"

I stretch out over him, searching his eyes, his body, for signs of... I don't even know what. Infatuation? Lust? The whole time I'm holding him there, I know it's sort of a marking-my-territory dickheaded man thing to do, but I can't help it. "It's odd you'd be so interested or taken in by someone like that."

He cocks his head at me, obviously bewildered by my behavior. "You think? I felt that way about you the first time I saw you too."

This is going from bad to worse. "I don't want you to feel the same way about him as you do about me!"

"I'm not totally sure what you mean."

"Man, you're so dense sometimes!" I cry. "I'm jealous dammit!"

To my surprise, he begins to shake. Softly at first, then harder and harder. It takes me a moment to realize that he's laughing without making a sound. "You're not supposed to just confess stuff like that, dude!" His silent amusement becomes audible and his laughter is beautiful - he sounds well and truly entertained by this. Too bad he's pissing me off. "You're too funny, Dee," he says, swiping at his now-teary eyes.

I feel totally stupid now. "Shut up!" I growl as he chuckles a little more. "Sorry I'm so fucking honest!" What did he expect me to do - let him fall for another man without saying a goddamned thing? Not likely!

He smiles up at me. "Yep, you're definitely honest. I've always known that."

It's not what I wanted - not an invitation or even an indication of his feelings. He really could want that mystery guy... and I find I just can't take that. I can't let him go without a fight, without showing him what he means to me. Leaning down, I gently take his lips, trying to make him mine in the most basic way I can think of, trying to push the stranger away from our vacation so that it's only just him and me again. He relaxes into the kiss. Instead of wide-eyed shock and a frozen torso, I get warm lips and (I think) the softest brush of his fingers through my hair. I let him go and lay over him - just staring. Then I smile at him fondly and touch his hair.

"No protests? You're being awfully quiet tonight."

"I'm just thinking," he says and I can hear the distance in his voice.

"About what?" Hopefully not that other guy...

"About you," he says, surprising me. "About what you want."

"Huh?" I say, having a Rhyoh moment myself.

"You told me not to dismiss you as a joke again. So I've been thinking about it, about what you meant."

"Is that why you let me kiss you?" I don't know if I find that disappointing or not. It was nice to kiss him and not be yelled out for a change.

"It's not that easy, it's just... I want to try to figure this out."

So he feels the bond, too! This is the closest he's come to saying anything about it and I feel like laughing aloud with happiness. Even if he's just admitting there's _something_ between us... I'll take even that. "So you're giving me a chance?"

"I don't know. Sort of. I guess so. It's not as easy for me as it is for you, Dee."  
Since he's being so open with me, I can't resist asking, "Why didn't you just push me away again? Then you wouldn't have to endure anything."

_I never even thought about pushing you away. _"I don't know."

I smile at him, withdrawing all of my plans to make it a wild night. He's given me this much, and I'm grateful. To ask for more when he's so confused like this would be wrong of me... no matter how much I want him. I ruffle his hair again, gently. "You go ahead and think then."

**RHYOH**

I wake up the next morning to see Dee perched on the edge of my bed, alert and coiled as a cat about to pounce - which is the next thing he does! It's not a full-fledged pounce - I could still throw him off if I wanted to - but his tongue is in my mouth, caressing the roof of it. As he draws back, he licks his lips and smiles. "Tasty." It seems like he's always licking something - his lips, food, me! I've never seen such a tongue-centered person. Right then I'm struck by the fact that thinking about this in bed, in the morning, might not be such a good idea.

"Dee! A simple good-morning would have been more than enough!" I can't really be that mad at him though - it's hard to be mad at someone who wakes up happy to see you.

"How'd you get in?" I call from the bathroom as I dress.

"Picked the lock," he says without shame.

I just shake my head. "And you yell at Cal!"

A knock sounds at the door. "You want me to get it?" Dee asks.

Towel around my shoulder I make my way to the door. It's probably just hotel help, but I don't want them getting the wrong idea about me and Dee. "You're," I say, opening the door to see the man from the courtyard.

"From yesterday," he finishes before me. His voice matches his appearance - refined with an edge of condescension. He radiates money and good breeding... and danger, too. "May I come in?"

I don't have to look behind me to see that Dee's bristling, but I can't exactly slam the door in the man's face. "Sure."

He crosses the threshold as though he owns the room beyond it, and takes a seat in one of the chairs. Feeling out of place in my own room, I take one of the others. Dee stays on the edge of the bed, his eyes glittering and hard.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the stranger says at last, holding up his wrist to show a band similar to those that Dee and I wear. "Lieutenant Commander Allend Rothschild, from the 1-&-12. The officers investigating yesterday's murders told me you two were staying here." His smile excludes Dee, focusing on me. "I came here on vacation as well. I never imagined there would be any officers like you around here." Dee isn't part of the _like you_ either. Why is he paying so much attention do me?

Dee cuts off my train of thought by asking, "So were you hoping for a mini-convention or what?"

Rothschild cocks his head at him as if looking at a strange new breed of insect under a microscope. "Come again?"

"What is it that you're wanting, lieutenant?"

Rothschild gives him a cutting smile, cold and hard. I can tell that he's already made up his mind about Dee... and his conclusions aren't positive. "Are the two of you aware of the situation? Four people have either gone missing or been murdered near here within the last few months. The girl you found takes the tally up to five."

"Five?" I ask, feeling an icy prickle at the base of my spine. "It doesn't sound like a coincidence."

He rewards me with a soft smile and a nod, reminding me somewhat of a teacher coaching a difficult student. Still, there's something in his eyes that prevents me from taking offense. "Exactly. That's why I've been doing some investigating myself - and all the leads point to this establishment. I think there's something here."

"You seem to know an awful lot about these murders," Dee says. "Do all the higher-ups work on their vacations?"

I hate seeing him act rude like that. "Dee!"

Rothschild shrugs. "I don't have anything else to do. It'd be pretty interesting to trump the local authorities, don't you think? So what about it - do you two want to join my investigation?"

Without a look for me, Dee stands and walks to the door. "No, thanks. Cases shouldn't be treated like some sort of after dinner entertainment. I'm out." The door slams closed behind him.

"Dee!" There's no answer. My guess is that he's already stalked down the hall.

"Are you in complete agreement with your partner?" Rothschild asks. It seems like there's more to his words than just the question itself.

"I understand your position," I admit at last. "You're a Keeper, and you can't just sit around while a series of murders goes on under your nose. On the other hand, I am in complete agreement with Dee. Our line of work isn't a game." I walk to the door, eager to check on my partner. "Now, if you'll excuse me?" I'm gone before he even gets up out of his chair.

**DEE**

I know Rhyoh will be looking for me, but I'm just not ready to talk to him yet. That pompous fucking it's-all-about-titles condescending asshole! I've been around a lot of real creeps in my life, but I don't think anyone's sent me from neutral to instant hatred quite so quickly and with such long-lasting results.

I could just tell from the way he looked at Rhyoh that he wanted him. Maybe I could handle that - Rhyoh's fucking gorgeous, and an amazing person to boot - so I can understand people wanting him. What I can't stomach is that way Rothschild had about him, that assured, superior arrogance that said, not just "I want him," but "I'm going to have him." Fucker.

I don't even care that he wrote me off. Lots of people have done that. The way his eyes kept flicking back and forth between us, I could tell he was feeling sorry for Rhyoh, sorry that someone with his potential was saddled with me.

I've been circling the lake with fast strides for at least twenty minutes, wondering what Rhyoh said to him - wondering if the bastard made him any other kind of offer. And Rhyoh was so taken in with him too! Him with his money and his clothes, his I've-read-books-whose-titles-you-couldn't-even-pronounce accent, his goddamned title... Rhyoh would respect a man who made it to such a high position so young. I know I'm never going any higher up the ladder than where I am right now. I sabotage myself every time the chance comes around. It's not like I haven't gotten honors before - stars of merit. I just never sew them on too tight, because I know I'll end up losing them over breaking some stupid minor regulation. Before this, I never wanted to be anything more than what I am, but it was clear in that room that the kind of man who's going to win Rhyoh isn't just some street-bred hack who's halfway educated with no prospects and no hopes of getting any. Suddenly, the person I am doesn't seem good enough anymore.

Seeing a sign indicating a trail off the side of the lake, I decide to take it. Maybe walking will help me cool down.

**RHYOH**

There's been no sign of Dee for hours. I'm trying not to worry about him, but it's hard when there's been five murders in the area. I know the Lt. Commander got under his skin... I can even understand it, somewhat. Everything about Rothschild is an affront to Dee. It's clear he's got money, connections, and breeding - and the know-how to use them. Dee could never respect someone who didn't work their way from the ground up, relying on privilege instead.

Deciding that he's bound to come back eventually, I make my way down to the lake, only to run into the Lieutenant Commander. He's sitting on the shoreline with a notebook and a couple of folders, obviously still trying to crack the case.

He beckons me over with a smile. "Keeper! Imagine us meeting again so soon."

"How are you doing, Lieutenant?"

"Allend, please. No need to stand on formalities between us, Randor."

I indicate the file lying beside him. "Have you gotten any leads?"

"Perhaps. Would you like to see what I've found?"

I know I shouldn't, but the case _has _been on my mind. Besides, I suppose that looking isn't the same as helping to solve. "Sure."

He lays the photographs of the five victims out one by one, side by side. "Do you notice anything similar about them?" he asks.

I scan each picture carefully. Both genders are represented in the set of victims, and their ages range from around to eighteen to around thirty. Then, one of the photographs catches my eye - the latest one, the young woman with the lilac hair. "Aliens," I say, voice barely above a whisper. "They were all aliens."

Rothschild nods in agreement, but then shifts the conversation in an unsettling way. "You know, I did some background work on you and your partner."

Though I consider this an exceptionally invasive statement, I hold my tongue. "Oh?" Does he know then? Dee doesn't even know yet. I've done my best not to talk about my past in front of him, to prevent him from asking about it.

"You have an impressive record, Keeper. I'd say you're well on your way to my post - or higher."

"Thank you," I say evenly, still bothered by the fact that his rank allows him access to our files, that he'd use his position in that way.

"Your partner, however..." he trails off." How long have you known him, Keeper?"

"About six months. Why?"

"He's just not... someone I would expect you to associate with. Certainly, his past misdeeds are juvenile, adolescent crimes... but he fits the profile."

My voice becomes hard and harsh in my ears. "The profile for what?"

"The murders that happened here, of course. Was it him that suggested you vacation here?"

I'm shaking faintly, outraged at the accusation. "Yes, but, Dee -"

"That doesn't surprise me," he continues, talking over me. "He was raised near here. This is his stomping ground."

"So what?"

He leans in close to me, almost whispering, his tone sinister. "They were all raped, Randor. The victims. Dee's bisexual, isn't he?"

If my hands weren't clenched tight at my sides, I think I'd have thrown a punch by now, but for some reason I'm immobilized - pale and frozen. "How do you know about Dee's sexuality?"

He smiles. "The report indicated something about it. Even without the report, it was fairly obvious from the way he was looking at you that he wasn't solely a ladies man, if at all."

One of my hands moves up to clutch protectively at the necklace he gave me. I stroke it between my thumb and my finger, trying to calm myself.

Rothschild flicks the chain. "He gave you that, didn't he? Maybe he's taking out his frustrations concerning his inability to win you. It sounds like a motive to me."

A flock of white-feathered water birds splashes into the lake in front of us, calling to each other in discordant tones. The motion of their wings and the noise of them breaks the spell holding me paralyzed. I turn and run from the lieutenant commander without looking back once. I can feel his eyes on me the entire way back to the hotel.

**DEE**

When Rhyoh bursts into my room, I almost fly off the bed. Not that I was doing anything wrong (yet) but he did interrupt a perfectly rich fantasy. He could have at least knocked.

I turn to jab him about it and stop, words unspoken. He's ghost-pale, not his usual porcelain - but _white_ as if all of his blood has gone to some other place. Stupidly I say, "Did you run into a vampire or what?"

He sits down without looking, feeling his way. I put my arm around him, trying to shield him from whatever's bothering him. "Rhyoh? C'mon, bud. Talk to me."

He exhales, hard, and shakes himself, trying to come back from some other place. I extend just a tiny bit of my powers, knowing how jittery magic makes him. As far as I can tell, he's not hurt. That's something at least. "Dee... just, just sit with me, like this."

His request surprises me, but I'm helpless when he asks me for something. "Sure, sure. Anything you want. What happened? What's wrong?"

"All of the victims were aliens," he bursts out, making no sense.

"What? How do you know?"

"I ran into the Lieutenant Commander. He showed me the pictures."

This guy is _really _starting to piss me off. "Bastard. But how could you tell to look?"

Ew, now he looks sick. Then it passes. "It's... it's in the eyes. Always."

"Well, alien or not, they didn't deserve to die for it," I tell him. I can't believe Rothschild would tell him more about the case! "I wish you'd stay away from him." I already said I was jealous, and that was before I even knew the guy. "I hate the way he looks at you."

"You've got JJ," he points out, teasing me. As relieved as I am to see whatever-it-was isn't bothering him as much anymore, I wonder what he's trying to give me heart attack for.

JJ. Just the name strikes fear into my heart. Years ago, I had the great misfortune of rooming with JJ at the Academy. I didn't do anything - I swear - he just... got infatuated with me. Then, all of a sudden, about two months ago, he transferred to the 13-&-6 in what I still say was a clear cut case of stalking. The Commander just tells me I'm paranoid. Anyway, on the day he arrived, JJ threw himself at me and started kissing me and stuff. Rhyoh saw the whole thing, and we had this... what? Blow-up, I guess, where he told me, basically, that I could fuck every man, woman and alien in the city for all he cared. Eventually, he let me explain that I never had (and still don't have) feelings for that silver-haired menace. Now if JJ would just let me explain the same thing... Every time he sees me it's the same routine. High pitched scream of glee. Running feet. Slam. Pain. That's JJ.

"Rhyoh, JJ means nothing to me, I thought we went -"

And then he's kissing me.

Time stops. I forget to breathe. Rhyoh Clarion is kissing me. He even closes his eyes. And then it's over, and he's looking at me with a small smile.

"Whoa! Dee! What are you doing?"

Like I'm gonna let him get away with just one kiss? Please. I push him down on the bed (he's in my bed - whoo!) and kiss him, HARD.

"Urghh, mrrh," he murmurs under my mouth. I think those are supposed to be words, but this just doesn't seem like the time or place for a lot of words to me, so I ignore them and let my hands roam down his body.

His mouth escapes. "Dee! I thought you were going to let me think about things! Hey! What are you doing? No! Dee!"

"I take it all back," I cry maniacally, struggling with his pants or his shirt or some other stupid barrier between my fingers and his skin. "I can't be expected to keep my word when you go and do something unbelievably sexy like that!" And it was too - the first official time he's shown any kind of attraction to me. He kissed me! He wasn't just allowing me to kiss him, putting up with him - he was doing it - it was all him!

He's still struggling under me, protesting. "Dee!"

"You're in good hands, I promise," I say between clenched teeth, trying to pin him. He's a wiggly little thing.

Somewhere in the room, a door clicks open. We both freeze and listen with the instincts of trained Keepers.

"Hey, they stopped talking," says a muffled voice.

"What do you think that means?" asks another.

"Maybe they just finished doing it," answers the first.

**RHYOH**

Dee lets me up, finger to his lips to ask for my silence. Straightening my clothing I nod, and together we advance on the closet and fling the door open.

"Bikky!" I cry

"Cal!" Dee rages behind me.

Still shaking a little from Dee's ministrations, I can't help but yell at them. "Why didn't you come help me? And how the hell did you get here, anyway?"

Both kids ignore me. Bikky extends a hand to Cal. "See? What did I tell you? Pay up."

She shakes her head firmly. "Huh-uh. He at least had him in the bed - who knows what they did before we got here?"

Blood rushes through my face; are my foster son and his best friend actually discussing...???? I think I'm going to pass out. Clearly the conversation irks Dee as well.

"Would you two quit placing bets on our relationship!?"

Quit? As in, they've done it before? And Dee knows about it? I feel extremely uncomfortable. Herding the kids (all three of them) into the main room, I take a minute to calm down before I hear what Bikky and Cal are going to say. I have a feeling that it's going to quite a story...

After making sure the kids are fed and the people who were supposed to have been watching them have been notified, we all sit down. "So, how did you manage to get here Bikky? If you changed your mind, all you had to is call me. I would have come get you."

"It was kind of a spur of the moment thing," Cal offers. "We used the money you left Bikky for expenses,"

"And some of our own money," Bikky adds.

"To take a couple transports and come out and surprise you." She bats her eyelashes prettily. "Surprised?"

Relieved, I think. If they hadn't barged in... I shudder. But, to tell the truth, I sort of feel cheated too... it's just the smallest bit if regret, but it's there and it's mine - and that scares me.

Dee, for his part, is clearly not under the influence of any positive emotions whatsoever. His mouth is turned down and he's staring off into space, looking like someone kicked him hard in the stomach. He's not even fighting with Bikky.

Well, whatever happens, it's kind of nice to have the "family" back together again. We spend the rest of the evening playing cards with the kids, and I try not to think of what they interrupted... and what I might be missing.

**DEE**

I swear, I'm starting to get a vampire complex. The only time I get to go after what I want is when the sun goes down. Of course, this time, it's because of the damn kids. Scratch that. They aren't kids. Normal kids would not just frickin' _materialize _whenever things get the slightest bit good. They're demons. That's it. They're miniature love prevention demons sent here to protect Rhyoh's angel body from unworthy me. But even demons have to sleep sometimes - and with it being the off season, Rhyoh gave in to the kids and gave them their own room. And now it's nighttime, and the hallway's clear - and there's Rhyoh's door right ahead...

"You're drooling again, you perv."

That voice! It stops me right in my tracks. "Bikky! What the hell are you doing up, huh?"

He gives me a street-tough grin, saying "bring it on" without words. "Dude, it's not that late. What are you up to? Something filthy as usual?"

Oooooh, he irks me. I'd like to polish the floors with his little platinum head. "Get back to bed, kid," I growl threateningly. He's lucky I haven't tried to flush him down a toilet yet - ruining my all-Rhyoh week like that.

Before he can aim a kick or a punch, a strange sound radiates through the halls - almost a moan. A chill works its way down my spine. "Did you hear that, kid?"

"It sounded like someone crying."

We look at each other and silently call another truce. When we aren't fighting over Rhyoh, we actually make a good team. Together, we soundlessly follow the voice to a stairwell, both pairs of eyes peering around the wall to see what's making all that racket. Ahead, there's only empty floor. I look to the kid, and he nods. We start down the steps.

And stop, frozen, when the floor below begins to glow. Suddenly, there's a beautiful young girl standing there, tears flowing down her cheeks. Except, she's more floating than standing... and we can sorta see through her.

Bikky leaps into my arms and I reach for the gun I don't have before turning and flying up the stairs and down the hallway - trying not to lose the kid, and trying to get away from whatever that thing was. Bikky and I bang on Rhyoh's door with frantic fists.

**RHYOH**

The kids must be playing with me - tapping out some kind of message with their knocks. "Come on in," I call. "It's open." Before the words are even out of my mouth, a pale and panting Dee and a tousled, wild-eyed Bikky are standing in my room, backs braced against the door. I figure they've been at it again.

"What are you guys doing now? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Those were apparently not the right words to use, because as soon as I've said them, my partner and my foster son begin to weep and wail and scream. I can't make out anything of what they're saying - which only frustrates them more.

"Listen to us!" Dee insists. "It was uh, uh," Excitement apparently makes him stutter. Bikky gives up on him and plunges ahead.

"A ghost chick!" he cries. "We saw a ghost chick!"

"We're not making it up," Dee insists. "She had long hair and a white dress and she was right downstairs!!"

"She like, BAM, appeared!" Bikky exclaims. "And she was crying, and looking at us, and then we ran up here."

I sigh, knowing Dee probably put him up to this so that we'd all end up in the same bed, and then maybe he could get away with some groping when Bikky fell asleep. That's just low. "There are no such things as ghosts," I tell them. "Bikky, it must have been your imagination. Dee - this is pathetic, even for you. You guys need to get to bed."

They gape at me for a minute, then turn to discuss something among themselves in loud whispers that I'm meant to hear. "Wow, I thought," Bikky begins.

"I know. It's always the sensitive ones you'd expect to believe in this kind of stuff that turn out to be uber-realists. Kinda scary isn't it?"

Bikky giggles. "Not as scary as the ghost."

"There are no such things as ghosts," says Dee, imitating my voice.

I throw a pillow at the two of them. "Go to bed!"

Dee shrugs. "Let's go Bikky." He kneels down to let Bikky ride on his shoulders - and I'm surprised to see Bikky climb up.

"I'm with you, dude."

"I thought you were going to stay with me tonight," I say as they head out.

"I'm gonna hang out with Dee tonight," says Bikky with a wave. "He'll keep watch for the ghost."

"You bet, kid," says Dee and they head down the hall talking about ectoplasm and spiritual imprints and all that garbage. For all that, I'm kind of glad to see them getting along.

**NARRATION**

"So are you here vacation, sir?" Raslin Henrik asked his newest guest. He didn't remember the hotel ever drawing this much business in the off season.

"Yes, two of my coworkers called me up and said I just had to see this place. They checked in about three days ago, I think."

"Oh, which ones might they be? I always get to know the off season guests better than any others, because there are so few of them."

JJ smiled at the memory of his beloved, godlike Dee. "Well, one's this really cute angry looking stud. The other one," he shrugged. "He's this blond, dazed looking half-alien."

That particularly piqued Raslin's interest. "Sir, I can assure you, there are no aliens on the premises." _I know because I had the last one killed. _

"Well, like I said, he's only part. You can't tell just to look at him - but it's in his eyes. They're all kinds of crazy colors." He still couldn't understand why Dee would have brought Rhyoh along anyway.

"Randor, I think he said his name was..." Raslin mused.

"Yep - that's him. Randor Rhyoh Clarion."

"I see. Well, this is your room, Mr. Adems. Please call me if you require anything at all." He walked away eagerly, glad to leave the new guest behind him. He had more important things to tend to. _Now, there are some knives that need sharpening. _

**DEE**

Rain. Fucking rain. A downpour, really. And instead of staying inside by the fire with Rhyoh, drinking something sweet and burning, I'm tramping into my boots, getting ready to head into town for supplies. We drew straws for the punishment - and Bikky lost with me. I think Rhyoh and I should stay in and send the uninvited rugrats into town. They're the ones that ate everything last night. Oh well, at least I can get cigarettes.

As we head out of the lobby, a familiar (it haunts my fucking nightmares) cry pierces my brain. "Dee!"

No way. No fucking way. Not possible. "JJ?" I manage to get out, trying not to gag on the bile that's creeping up my throat.

Bikky jerks a thumb at the silver-haired threat that has now entangled itself around my ankles. I keep walking. "Who's this joker?"

"JJ," I sigh, sensing the apocalypse is near. "C'mon kid. The world's gonna end this week anyway - what's a little rain?" I hope this damn town has alcohol too. And sedatives.

**RHYOH**

I'm trying not to feel bad for Dee and Bikky out in the rain, but it's hard. Dee gave me such a pitiful look before he left, and I know he's missing our time together. I think of our day on the lake and the kiss on the balcony and I find that I'm going to miss having him just to myself too.

Then the memory of our struggle comes back, and I decide that I won't miss it _too _bad. Caught in the memory of his hands on my body, his tongue in my mouth, I barely notice when Cal taps me on the shoulder.

"Rhyoh, can we go check out the tea room?"

Hot tea on a rainy day? Sounds good to me. "Sure."

Strolling through the hotel lobby, I feel Raslin's eyes upon us... no - just on Cal. He's paused in whatever he was doing behind the main desk, just staring at her. "I-is this one of the other guests you registered, Mr. Clarion?"

Cal, always overly forward, strolls up to him with dainty steps, and I have to follow. "Yes. This is Callista Baker. She's my adopted son's best friend. He was our third reservation, but he got held up. They decided to come down yesterday."

She affects him somehow; he's still staring. "H-how old are, little miss, if I might ask?"

"Fifteen," she chirps. Remembering how she got me past Am's guards - playing the role of a pleasuress - my heart aches for her. She's so very young and I'm so very glad that she's with us now, away from that other life.

"Fifteen," he murmurs. "You'll have to pardon my asking, little miss. It's just, you reminded me of my dearly departed daughter. She was about your age when she passed away."

Oh, that's why the staring. How sad...

Cal's face falls. "I'm so sorry."

"No, not at all." Raslin waves her off. "It was as if I saw her face, just for a moment, in yours." He shakes his head a bit in an effort to leave behind his mood. "So where are you two off to today? I'm afraid the weather isn't lending itself to anything too exciting."

"Oh, we just wanted to check out the tea room," I tell him. "Hopefully the rain will let up later in the week and we can get some hiking in."

"I hope so. Would the two of you like me to bring you some tea and cakes? There are boardgames inside the table."

"That would be great," I tell him, taking Cal's hand to lead her up the stairs. It should be a very pleasant afternoon.

**DEE**

So, maybe it's just that I don't deserve Rhyoh. It's the only explanation I can come up with.

Since we came here we've had our time interrupted by a dead girl, a smart-ass Lieutenant Commander playing vigilante, Bikky, Cal, and now JJ. It's like the entire universe has lined up to get between me and the one person I really want. It'd be kind of funny if it wasn't making me so damn depressed. Maybe it's punishment for all the running I did when I was younger. Going bar to bar and bed to bed, no one meaning a thing to me, and me not meaning a thing to them. Now I've finally found someone who does mean something, and I feel like he's up on some pedestal, out of reach.

I know that I messed things up after I kissed him... talk about not thinking with the right head, huh? But before that, when he did kiss me (I have to keep reassuring myself that it wasn't a dream), I think we were really getting somewhere. And now we're right back to square one. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm on the damn board.

By the time we make it out of the store, the rain hasn't let up, and none of us are looking forward to the walk back. When Bikky spots a cafe and suggests that we stop and get something to warm us up, it sounds like the best idea I've heard all day. We leave JJ straggling behind us, struggling with the groceries. Cruel, I know, but the man has put more bruises on my body than every belligerent and criminal I've ever arrested combined. He can carry a few bags. Inside the cafe, I toss Bikky my wallet and head out under the overhang for a smoke.

And, well in tune with the way the rest of things are going (downhill fast) who else would be there but, "Lieutenant Commander Rothschild?"

"Lyghtner, isn't it?" He's not even looking at me, like the sight of me offends his eyes. "I don't see your partner around anywhere."

My teeth grate together. "Don't sound so disappointed."

Now he turns toward me, registering a challenge. "You have nothing to offer him, you must know that."

I'd really, really like to argue with him, but I know he's right. Still, "I care about him, you bastard."

"Of course, but what could you possibly give him?"

_My heart. What are your fucking fancy ties and titles next to that? _I hold my silence; he can take it however he wants it."What are you doing out here, Commander?"

Rothschild indicated a building across the street. "Medical laboratory. I found some blood around the hotel that I wanted to check out."

"From that smirk, I'd guess you got the answer you wanted."

He doesn't even deny it. "Yep. The blood is from an alien. All of the victims have been aliens. And all of them died after checking into that hotel."

"So?" I'm glad I restocked my cigarettes. For a moment I worry about Bikky and Cal (they are aliens) - but they are staying with Keepers after all. Still, maybe they should sleep in Rhyoh's room tonight.

"I think the owner's behind it."

"Mr. Henrik?"

"Right."

"And why this grand conclusion, Watson?" I can't help it; I want to get under his skin in the worst way.

"Five years ago, his daughter was murdered by a group of guests. A group of _alien _guests. She was very young when she died and they caught her killers right away. That year, the first alien guest went missing. Sound like a coincidence to you, Keeper?"

As he's speaking, a connection is trying to form in my mind. _Aliens. You can tell by the eyes. Alien. Eyes. Alien. Eyes. Eyes! _ _Cal! Rhyoh! _ Suddenly I'm running, away from Rothschild, away from JJ and Bikky. "Call the local authorities - tell them to get to the hotel, now!"  
"What? What the hell are you doing?"

"Rhyoh's part alien you idiot!"

"What!?"

I ignore him, searching for the street for anything that moves. A young man is pulling on the helmet for his speeder bike when I leap onto it and start the motor.

"Hey! Thief! You can't take that!" his voice is already fading in my ears.

**RHYOH**

The tea and the warmth of the tea room did a number on Cal. She barely got through her cake before she started to yawn and nod.

"Were you and Bikky up late last night playing video games?" I ask knowingly.

"Sorta late. Dee played with us. Mmm."

I'm not surprised to hear that the third child in our group joined in. At least he and Bikky are only clobbering each other _on-screen_. It's a definite improvement.

She yawns again. "I guess... awwhh... I guess I better go lay down. Sorry, Rhyoh."

"That's okay. Get some rest, sweetie." I walk her back to her room and see her settled. "Do you need anything, Cal?"

"Mmmm. Maybe a glass of water?"

"Sure thing. I'll be right back, okay?"

But as I start down the steps, I start to feel funny. The colors in the carpet seem to rise up and dance, while the steps below me recede before my feet. Each step is harder to find than the last. What's wrong with me? So... dizzy...

I pause to rest at the bottom of the steps, leaning on the rail, when sudden pain sears through me. Raslin Henrik stands before me, a long dagger in hand. A dagger now stained with my blood. I hold tight to my bleeding arm, backing away, but my body barely moves. It's as if my legs won't listen to me. Raslin remains still, waiting.

"Having trouble getting around, Rhyoh?"

My name... the name mom gave me... what Dee calls me. Could he have heard it? "Wh-what's going on?"

"Your tea was drugged, Rhyoh. That's why you feel so numb. Can't have you getting away now, can we?"

Mind dazed and spinning, I brace myself against the wall, trying to rally my strength as he begins his tale. I've had such bad luck with drugs lately...

"Five years ago, my daughter and I were still living on the top floor of this hotel," he begins. "My daughter was beautiful, pure, and kind. That summer, a group of our alien guests - three men - took a special interest in her. I found her in the garden - broken, raped, tortured. Aliens killed her."

Even in my fogged, disoriented state, I know where this is going... and I don't think I'm going to make it out of it. I wonder how he could have known about my heritage. It only shows in the eyes. So far, no one at the station knows but the Commander. I've even kept it from my partner.

Dee... He saved me before, but I know he can't get to me in time this time. My brain's fogged from whatever Raslin gave him, so even if I tried to call him, I don't think I could. I wish I could, to tell him... I don't even know what. He's going to beat himself up so bad over this...  
Knowing Dee's not going to be able to save me, my thoughts flick to Cal. she's an alien too - a full-blooded one. Maybe I can still save her. "Cal, d-don't hurt..." Each syllable is a struggle; I can barely force my tongue to move.

Henrik smiles at me. "Ah, I can give you that, at least. She's an alien, and so I intended for her to share your fate... but she has my daughter's purity and beauty. She will be safe." He shifts the blade in his hand. "But someone must pay for my dear child's death... so I cannot say the same for you."

His second slash takes me across the forehead. Blood leaks into my eyes as I try to dart away from him and only manage to shuffle, barely avoiding the downward swing of metal.

"You... killed all those..." the sentence doesn't quite make it out of my mouth, but Raslin understands and smiles. He's actually proud of what he's done.

"Yes. I began with one for every lost year of my daughter's life, but her life was worth so much more than those I took."

I catch his blows in the arm each time, shielding my face and my chest. But I know I'm only delaying the inevitable. And seeing the blade coming toward me again, I can only think of one face, one pair of eyes. _Dee._

I sink to the floor, trying to catch my breath, one arm still raised to fend him off. I know Dee will take care of the kids. He can say whatever he wants about hating them, but I know better. I just wish I had given him more.

_"How do you feel about me?"_

Dee... you mean so much more than I told you. So much more than you should...

Raslin has me up against a wall now, preparing for his final blow. "You put up quite a fight, don't you?" he says, acknowledging me as a worthy adversary. "But now I really must say goodbye."

Bracing myself for the blow that will end my life, I don't see what stops Raslin from killing me. I only hear him say, in an awed voice, "Maria?"

And then glass is shattering all around us as a speeder bike smashes through the main window. My partner leaps off of it while it's still running, and takes aim at Raslin's hand. It's a perfect shot, spraying blood and sending the dagger arching away.

**DEE **

I don't really remember much of what happened after I fired the gun. Seeing Rhyoh hurt, with blood spattered on his face and clothes, sent me into a red fury. After subduing Raslin, I know I smacked him around a few times, Rhyoh protesting all the while behind me. He's so good-hearted. He'd even try to protect his would-be killer from being brutalized. As far as I'm concerned, he deserved what he got.

After that, the local authorities arrived and it was all names, numbers, and questions. I'm hoping I don't get billed for the speeder... or the windows. The man was a murderer more than once over - he doesn't deserve property rights.

Once Henrik was taken out, Rothschild, JJ and Bikky showed up. The lieutenant commander made a few smart cracks about my less than gentle treatment of Henrik, but he also said he'd clean up the mess I'd made. I still don't know what to think of that. Maybe he's just being generous, since he was proven correct in his theories after all. Whatever. He freed me to take care of Rhyoh - that's all that matters to me.

Bikky caught me on the way up and told me that, during the investigation of the hotel, more bodies (some skeletons) had been found in the walls. Creepier still, more than one officer was reporting sightings of alien ghosts - and not just Henrik's daughter, like we had seen. When I'd busted through the window, I thought I'd seen something, like just out of the corner of my eye, between Rhyoh and that knife. It almost looked like a group of aliens - protecting Rhyoh from the blow. Maybe those were the spirits of all the people Raslin killed. As creeped out as that makes me feel, I can't help thanking them, silently, for whatever part they played.

So now I'm upstairs in a hotel I regret bringing us to and can't wait to leave, bandaging my partner. I really wish he'd just let me heal him, but he shot that down real quick. As I tie a bandage around his arm, I find myself getting all choked up. If I had lost him... I don't even want to think about a world without him in it.

He lifts his hand to his face so that he can look at a cut, and I bring it to my lips. I know he said no healing, but this is so small that I can heal it with a kiss. I lick the blood away and touch my lips to the wound.

"Dee..."

I hold his hand to my lips, still, breathing against his flesh. "When I realized that you were part alien, well... god! My heart stopped cold in my chest." I turn to lean into his shoulder, not wanting him to see the tears that are suddenly shining in my eyes. "I mean it."

He places his hand on my neck, holding me against him. "I know. Thanks, Dee."

Later, I'll ask him why he didn't tell me, why he didn't' trust me with that part of his past, what he's afraid of. For now, it's enough that he's safe and that all of us - Bikky, Cal, hell, even JJ - are going back home in one piece.

**Back at the 13-&-6**

**DEE**

I expected the jokes we'd get from Dragen and Teig about our vacation-from-hell, but under their joking, I see their concern for Rhyoh, too. In just six months, he's made himself important to everyone he works with.

I also expected the bombardment I received from JJ (human cannonball, anyone?) and his exclamations over how worried he was - even though Rhyoh was the one who got hurt.

And the Commander's grousing and growling - work just wouldn't be the same without old Brushface chewing on someone or another. Calling him an elephant seal did not go over well... That's okay though - if he wants to take my vacation time off of me, he's welcome to it! Next time, I'm staying home! At least I know which streets to stay off of.

But when the Commander called us in to meet his new assistant - some hot shot investigator who'd personally requested a transfer to our area, the last person I expected to see was Allend Rothschild. The vacation adventure might be over, but his presence here tells me one thing... things at the 13-&-6... well, they're going to stay interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

HeartShy

Part Four

By: SinnamonGirl

with wonderful beta assistance from Aindel S. Druida!

Disclaimer: Fake belongs to Sanami Matoh

Apologies for anyone offended by my version of religion in this story - I'm doing the best I can!

**DEE**

I am dreaming about Rhyoh: he's all I ever dream of because of the bond. I've tried to get him to talk about it, to admit that we belong together, that some part of us - souls, if you want - knew each other before we came to this world, in this form. He doesn't believe in souls anymore than he believes in magic. Still, we make such a good team that I keep waiting for some kind of a sign for him. He has to know that other people take years to get as close as we've gotten in a few months. Sure, the intense experiences help, but there's more to it than that. Dragen and I have shared some pretty crazy experiences, and JJ is intense all by himself - but neither of them can call to me across distance or sense my emotions when I'm not in the room. Neither of them haunt my dreams and I don't think if I never saw them again that some part of me would just die.

In my dream, Rhyoh's sweet mouth is nibbling at my ear, his tongue flicking along the outside. I sigh and burrow deeper into the fantasy, just as my body starts to realize something's wrong. My ear is wet _outside _of my dream too, and gossamer-light wings are beating about my ears.

"Ma'at!" I cry, flinging a pillow at the small, but amazingly annoying, creature. "Aren't you supposed to be freaking nocturnal!?" It took me two weeks to get used to something fluttering around my apartment at night, hunting, of all things - fruit.

Oh yeah - Ma'at...

She was Rhyoh's gift to me following our last adventure (which was supposed to be a vacation). She's a fruit bat (for real!) with silky lilac fur, and a white underbelly and throat. Because she's an Egyptian fruit bat, he named her after the goddess of law and order that the ancient Egyptians looked to keep their universe in balance. He knows _a lot_ of Earth history. He considers it important since that's where we came from - our homeplace. "We took the place of that goddess," he explained to me when he told me that he'd already named my gift. "So it's right that we remember her."

When this golden-eyed flying rat thing looked up at me from my hand, I had to ask, "Why a fruit bat?"

We were sitting on that same bench I had called him to give him that necklace. The sky was pink again, edged with moonlight. He let me put my arm around him because it was night and no one was around. I remember thinking that I hated and loved the bench and that small streetlight circle at once for what they gave me. You see, as Keepers, the city isn't abnormally dangerous for us at night. We could sit on the bench, touching, safe with our guns and shy with our feelings all night as the moons shifted, danced, and changed.

He gave me a knowing look when I asked why and then he removed a plastic bag from his pocket. A fat strawberry was inside, which he took out and placed on his palm. Ma'at immediately lost interest in me and fluttered over onto his fingers, moonlight piercing her wings. Then her tongue shot out, long and thin, and she began to suck on the strawberry until its skin paled.

"I saw her on the computer," he explained. "Some lady breeds them on a jungle moon not far from here. They're all different colors and sizes, but Ma'at matched your hair." He flicked a few strands from my face. "And you can see she's a tongue person too!" I kind of liked the fact that he was thinking about my tongue - it could be a good thing, right? "Plus," he continued, "you're always complaining about your place being empty since we left."

"That's so you'll come see me," I told him, hesitantly stroking me new pet. She made a funny cooing-mewling sound like a dove stuck inside of a kitten. She was weird and different - so very me. And it touched me that he'd think to get me anything at all.

He smiled at me in that way that always makes my heart leap to my mouth. "Well, I'll have to come check on Ma'at, now won't I?"

Hopefully he won't be checking today, 'cause if I catch the little winged tease (how dare she lick me like that!?) I'm going to tie her to the ceiling fan. She seems real worried, flying around with a small plum clutched in her feet, chittering away at me. She talks to me all the time, but refuses all advice on Rhyoh. He must have sworn her to secrecy. Checking the fruit bowl (talk about a way to get health food into the house!) I make sure she'll be fed for the day, and start to get ready for work.

**RHYOH**

I've been waiting for the end of this shift for three days. Three days ago, Dee took me aside and asked me if I'd be busy after work. We worked the early shift today, so it's still mid-morning as we clock out and head... well, I don't know where. He wouldn't tell me then, and he isn't saying anything now as we drive deeper and deeper into the city, toward the wilder part that everyone calls The 'Brinth. I try to guess our destination as we pass through Tairn, Tairoot, and Brightwick - following the Shadowcoast. We exit the main roads as we come into the part of the city called Hedgley. We park on a street that sends my Keeper instincts into overload. Despite the robot help force the city employees to remove graffiti and signs of violence, both still exist here. Dee steps easily out of the car, a predator returning to well-known terrain.

Sometimes it's easy for me to forget that I'm older than he is. There are moments when he's so self-assured and strong, like one of those heroes-facing-desperate-odds from the movies. Sometimes it looks like bullets or lasers couldn't touch him. This is one of those times, and I watch his long coat flare around his ankles in the cold air. The collar is turned up over his neck in points and his boots clatter on the pavement. I know that his guns are resting in shoulder holsters, under the coat.

To my surprise and confusion, he leads me into a bulk vendor who apparently knows him well, welcoming his return. "What can I do you for, lad?" he asks, purposefully reversing the word order playfully.

Dee scans the shelves, eyes purposeful, before making several selections. Cans of vegetables and fruit are loaded into boxes alongside such staples (even in the age of computerized kitchens) as sugar and flour. Lastly, he purchases a large box of assorted candy and chips. The asked for total makes me wince, but Dee seems to have anticipated it. He lays the bills out and gathers up the boxes with a salute, directing me to the ones he can't carry himself.

"Same time next year?" asks the shopkeeper.

"You bet," Dee says over his shoulder.

As we abandon the car and start out on foot, I ask again where we're going.

"You'll see in a minute," Dee tells me. He's trying to keep his voice light, but I sense an undercurrent of nervousness in him. There's a worried cast to his face. That worries _me_: Dee's a jump-with-both-feet-before-looking person, not a worrier.

"This doesn't look like the safest neighborhood," I say to my partner, thinking that neither of us can get to our guns without dropping the boxes.

"Stick with me, kid," he calls over his shoulder. "I'll make sure nothing bad'll happen to ya."

"Like that makes me feel any better."

And my not-so-good feelings head right down to worse when a tiny thug stops right in front of us and demand that we leave anything of value with him. He's just a kid - but I know enough to know that kids can be dangerous. Bikky shot a man with my gun, and Cal helped bring down a whole criminal organization.

Dee's tone is flippant as he says, "Like you'd catch me with anything of value around this dump, Terrance!"

"Huh?" The kid sounds like me. I answer almost all of Dee's lines that way - can't help it.

Leaving off the boxes, my dark-haired partner kneels on the pavement so that he's face to face with our assailant. "Yo."

"Dee!" the child cries, and I hear surprise, excitement, and admiration in his voice. Suddenly a dozen children of various ages and both races are swarming around us shouting. Mostly they're calling out Dee's name, like a tribe welcoming back it's beloved leader. Several of the bigger kids are clustered around my partner's long legs and one of the smaller ones has leaped into his lap. I thought Dee hated kids...

Laughing, trying not to be pulled down (I can't help but think of Gulliver and the Lilliputians) Dee waves a hand to me. "And this is my partner, Rhyoh."

Now _I'm _being swarmed, a dozen questions buzzing around me, most of vthem about Dee. Finally Terrance, clearly the leader, comes forward and brushes a hand through his hair. I recognize it as a gesture that's meant to ledn him an air of respectability. Already grown, though probably no more than fourteen, he offers me a hand. "Terrance. Nice ta meetcha." Someone's taught them manners, these kids, and in this act Terrance is reminding the little ones of just how and when to use them. Though I know he's probably a pickpocket and a petty thief, I feel my respect swell.

"He's all right, guys," I hear him telling the other kids. I've passed inspection then. I can't help but chuckle as he tells one of the smaller ones, "He's not scary. He's like a blond Dee!"

As the whole wolf-pack assembly of us starts moving again, Dee cutting his strides to match those of his followers, I still can't help but wonder: _What the heck is going on here?_

**DEE**

I throw a look back over my shoulder. He's confused all right, but he's doing okay. Like me, he has living cargo as well as boxes. A frail little alien girl

has apparently taken a liking to him, and she's chattering as they walk, held in one of his arms. The man is good with kids, there's no taking that from him. For a minute, I feel the faintest twinge of guilt - like being stuck with a thorn. If he does come to care for me, he won't have kids of his own. Is it wrong of me to pursue him, knowing I'd take that from him? But there is the bond. I didn't go looking for him - it just happened. Plus, he already has Biks. If he wants to adopt a dozen more, I know I can't say no. Hell, after Ma'at a kid might be welcome. At least kids know when you're yelling at them. She's just happy to have my attention - negative or not.

Ahead of us, our destination appears. It's not a grand building - five stories only, but I smile at the sight of it. The bottom floor is maintenance: the kitchen, the meeting rooms for prospective adopters, large activity rooms for the kids. The next floor has classrooms and a chapel (though we are right next door to a Church, too) and the final three were my home until I turned 18. There are many things I don't miss: the lack of privacy, the endless chore list that Penguin devised, trying to cook for three hundred... but for every strike my years here have against them, they were still mine and sometimes I wish I could come back and crawl into my little bed (identical to 250 others) and know that someone was watching over me. I value my independence fiercely, but sometimes I miss lying awake with other sleepers drawing dreaming breaths all around me. I wish Rhyoh and the kids would come back.

Apparently I've been paused on the threshold, remembering. "What is this place?" my partner asks, bringing me back to the present. "A church?"

"Church is next door." I point. "This is the orphanage where I grew up. I was abandoned right after I was born. I thought I mentioned it to you before?" I know the last part is a lie and I turn away as I tell it. I can feel him staring, hard, at my back.

**RHYOH**

_I had no idea he was an orphan. _

As a thousand tiny things begin to fall into place in my head, a black-robed woman flies out of the Church, Dee's name a cry of pure joy in her mouth. Her clothes tell me immediately that she's a priestess. Following the destruction caused by religious wars on Earth in the late 2000s, every denomination tried to become more universal and thereby, more accepting. The strict rules and ceremonies that had reassured and comforted millions for generations were molded together and even those who chose to follow a so-called "pure faith:" Catholicism, Judaism, etc - were forced to work at accepting, for good, the religious rights of others. Christianity lost its missionary bent after so many had died in its name. This new universal attitude was especially beneficial during space colonization; alien beliefs simply joined up alongside the beliefs of the other Earth faiths. From her clothes, I can tell that the woman Dee is embracing still holds some Catholic beliefs, but the decorations on the nearby Church mark it as universal.

"Oohh, it's good to see you again," she's saying to Dee, holding him as if he might try to escape at any moment. "You look good!"

His smile is soft and contented. "Haven't caught one cold yet," he jokes; healer's are typically unaffected by infectious diseases. "You don't look so bad yourself, penguin."

She grabs him by the ear and hauls his face in close. "Who are you calling penguin? You'll address me as mother, you little brat!" There's no real anger or threat in her voice and I know I'm witnessing a reenact ion of a familiar scene from Dee's childhood.

"Ow, ow, ow - all right. I got it! I'm not a kid anymore, pen.. mother."

Satisfied, she invites us in for coffee, including me in the invitation. The whole time she still has hold of one of Dee's hands, as if worried he'll disappear. The kids have already moved in the cans and boxes for us.

"This is a little something for the kids to eat," Dee explains, brushing a hand through his hair nervously.

Mother hugs him again. "Thank you, Dee, but you're going to have to give this up soon. Don't you need to be saving?"

This makes me laugh; Dee was just ribbing me for merely saving my money and not enjoying it. Of course, now I know that he's not enjoying his either - he's directing it here. For the second time today, I'm forced to seriously reevaluate some of my assumptions about my partner.

"I'm doing fine," he says and wags a finger at me, "And stop yer snickerin, Rhyoh!"

Just then, one of the younger kids comes in and tugs at Dee's coat. "Will you come play with us, Dee? Everybody's waiting for you."

"Sure thing, sweet pea," he says, hefting her into his arms. "I guess I'd better go entertain the troops. Take good care of my partner there, penguin."

"You mean mother?" she asks with twinkling eyes.

I suddenly don't want him to leave me. "Dee..."

"Make yourself at home," he says with a wink - and then he's out the door.

Mother is a sweet woman, her face creased with lines that I know come more from smiles than from sadness. She radiates peace and calm and I envy her her faith. Ever since my parents... well, it hasn't been easy to believe in anything. Handing me a coffee cup that I know is of the "guest" set, she says, "So your name is Rhyoh, is it? I think Dee was a little overwhelmed for introductions. I always tell the kids not to do that to visitors..." She shrugs.

"Yes, ma'am. Randor Rhyoh Clarion. It's very nice to meet you."

"I'm Margaret Lane, but all the children call me Mother. Well, unless they're little brats like Dee was. Then you'd call me Penguin." She plucks at the habit in explanation. "I told him to stop calling me that when all the children started to copy him - but when did that boy ever listen to a word I said?"

I chuckle, thinking of Dee with the Commander - or better yet, with Rothshchild. "I don't think he's changed very much."

"Oh you can say that again." But then she smiles, turning to watch Dee through a window. He's playing ball with the kids, laughing hard into the cold air. "But he's a good boy. My pride and joy, that one is."

I smile, seeing the love between my partner and this woman who raised him and who knows how many others. Even here, he made himself special, irreplaceable. I'm not ready to admit it yet - not out loud - but he's doing the same thing inside of my heart.

"He's in love with you, you know." she tells me, causing me to almost spit out my mouthful of coffee.

My cheeks burn. "What!?"

"I could see from the way he was looking at you - and the way he sent us off together. He wanted to show you off to me." She smiled. "You seem like a very nice person."

I don't know what to say. I mean, she's a priestess, likely dedicated to a life of celibacy. How can she be saying this stuff? "I-uh, I'm just Dee's work partner, honest." I should stop right there, but I can't help asking, "You've seen him in love before?"

She's shrewd and gives another smile - a knowing one this time. "How artful, Keeper. You must be good at your job. No, to tell you the truth. Dee's been a loner all his life. But it tells me something that he'd bring you here with him. Trust comes hard to 'streetlings. And I know what love looks like on him."

"He never told me about this place," I find myself admitting.

"He must think a great deal of you, to open up to you this way. You don't like Dee then?"

She's his mother for crying out loud! What can I say? "I... of course I like him. It's just not... like that."

"Just so you know, I'm not the type to judge such things. If two people who need each other are lucky enough to find one another, I don't think it matters if they're both men or both women." She touches the ornate cross at her neck. "Nor do I think the One I serve judges, either - otherwise he would not have made us as we are. Loving someone is a good thing, in my eyes and in His." She places a hand on my arm. "Dee, I think he's in need of you - though I don't think you want to hear that."

"H-how can you know so much about me already? We've only just met!" Maybe she's a magic user like Dee, or maybe her long service to others has allowed her to see more of people than they mean to show.

She merely shrugs. "I just do, I suppose. But please don't let me talk you into something. Your heart will tell you which path to take. When it does - share those feelings with Dee."

It's such a sweet request, filled with concern not just for Dee's welfare - but for mine as well. I can't help but agree. "I- I will. Uhm, Mother? Could you do me a favor?"

"What is it, child?"

"Could you tell me about Dee when he was younger?" The fact that I know almost nothing about this man who has become so much a part of my life bothers me all of the sudden. If nothing else, I can fix this.

"Certainly."

I relax for the next few hours, letting her voice carry me back twenty years to Dee's childhood, then on to his street-tough days as a teen, and to his choice to join the Academy. I'm smiling when he returns.

**DEE**

"Were you two playing nice?" I ask when I return. Mother must have gotten called away by one of the million tasks it takes to run this place, because Rhyoh's alone when I come in, resting on a window ledge.

"Yep. Mother's a really awesome person, Dee." I knew they'd hit it off - both of them go everyday placing the needs of others before their own. And they're the two most important people in my life.

"What were you guys talking about?" I ask, shedding my coat and my scarf. "You seemed like you were having fun."

"Mother was telling me all about when you were younger. I heard about all the trouble you used to get into. Images of Bikky kept coming into my head."

I growl, taking mock-offense, though I've made the connection between myself and monkeyboy before, too. "Don't lump me in with that twerp!"

He reaches over and takes my hand, placing pressure on it for just a moment. "Dee, why didn't you say anything about this?"

"What? About this place? Well, now that you know, how do you feel?" I didn't tell him because I was afraid, and I know that deep inside. He had a family, an upbringing, an education. No one wanted me for eighteen years, except mother. All I had was here.

"How do I feel?" There's anger in his voice; he feels like I did wrong by him, I know. But he didn't tell me he was part alien, either.

"Does it change the way you think about me?" I ask softly, needing to know.

"Of course not!" he snaps, offended. "You're still the same to me, Dee!"

I shrug, playing casual even as relief spreads through me. "Well then, what's it matter if you knew or not? Same ending, different scenario, that's all."

"Well, yeah," he agrees reluctantly, "I just feel a bit cheated, I guess. I mean, I thought I knew you so well," _You called me your best friend. _"and it turns out that I don't know anything about you at all."

I smile at him. He does care about me... just maybe not like I want him to. Still, I can't resist grabbing him around the waist and pulling him close to me. I kiss him gently on the back of the neck, smelling his hair.

"Dee! What are you doing? What if the kids see us?"

"So," I say against his skin, making him shiver. "It'll be like a mini life lesson for them."

"Dee!"

Well, it's better than "get away!;" this time he's just worried about who will see. I withdraw reluctantly. "All right, all right. I gotta go talk to the penguin about some stuff. You can stay here or you can take my place in the game." I know he won't disappoint the kiddies; I smile as I see him reach for his scarf. "I'll be down to get you soon," I promise.

**NARRATION**

"He's my soulmate," he told her, head on her knees, tears soaking through her robes. "I know it."

He had come to her in the chapel, she knew, because it comforted him. He hadn't meant to kneel - to break - but if he had to do so, she was glad that it was here, where suffering was healed. The woman called Mother stroked his hair, letting him get the story out before offering any advice. It was her way. She knew that she was the only one that he would allow to see him like this. He knew that she would hold none of his tears against him after they were spent.

"But he doesn't want me, Mother," he wept, anguished. "He's afraid of me. Afraid because I want him, and because I'm a magic user." He paused to swipe a fist across his eyes, trying to annihilate his tears and the pain that brought them.

He surprised her when he asked, "Mother, what's the going price for forgiveness?"

She knew, in that moment, how badly he was hurt. She saw in her mind the sleepless nights he had endured, the many times he had offered his heart only to have the offer rejected - or worse - overlooked. She liked Rhyoh, even after one meeting with him, and she wondered that such a gentle face could conjure such pain in her child. And if it was a lifebond, Rhyoh Clarion was the only one who could take such pain away. She could only offer cold comfort.

"Child, you know the answer to that. It's what I've always taught you. All you have to do is ask."

Silent sobs shook his strong shoulders. He was a tall man and it broke her heart to see him brought to his knees in the name of anything - even love. "I have. I've begged. Do you think He could be punishing me for all the other stuff I've done? That he's doing it now because there's finally something that matters that He can keep from me?"

It took her a moment to realize that he was speaking of God, not his partner. She kissed his forehead. "Oh, Dee... God does not punish." She would never have dedicated her life to a deity that would shatter a heart as golden as Dee's. "Rhyoh simply hasn't sorted his feelings out. Give him time. Wait for him."

Outside, a familiar scattering of marks around the front door of the orphanage had distracted Rhyoh from the game of ball. The children continued to play behind him, but he was completely focused on the shape and depth of a series of holes. _Bullets? Someone would actually shoot up this place? _He glanced over his shoulder, making sure the number of kids still matched his internal tally. He was beginning to respect Mother Lane more with every passing moment. Just across the street from where the children were playing, a nondescript man in dark glasses was leaning against the building.Rhyoh watched the man watching the orphanage and saw his hand close around a small remote.

Behind him, the windows in the second story burst outward, spraying glass. Smoke and flames reached toward the sky. The man in glasses ran.

**RHYOH**

Seeing that the children are unhurt, I run into the building at top speed, leaping the steps. Mother and Dee are inside! My mind reaches for his instantly, without thought. He's alive - but hurt. I bolt up the steps, running into the flames and wreckage. Below, I hear the orphanage's employees calling for children, taking headcount. I pray that none of them were injured. I swallow hard. Or killed.

"Dee! Dee, answer me! Mother?"

I find Dee kneeling on the floor, a fragment of wood through his side. Blood is puddle all around him, but he doesn't even seem to notice the pain. In his arms, he holds an unconscious Mother - her face pale and smeared with blood. I shake him, hard.

"Dee! Stop trying to heal her - you're too weak!"

"Have to," he mumbles from inside a healing trance that he can barley sustain. I've been reading up on healers; I know he doesn't have the strength to help her when his own life is spilling out onto the floor. Taking Mother from him, I call for medical transports on my wristband and urge him to follow me downstairs. "Come on, Dee. There may be other bombs and there's fire up here. Can you walk?" He's not answering, staring at the blood on his hands - Mother's blood. There's not enough time for me to fight him; I'm afraid the floor will go any minute. Leaving him, I carry Mother outside, trying to be gentle but going as fast as I can. I leave her in the care of some of her coworkers, instructing them to wrap her up and keep her still. Then I go back for Dee.

Somehow, he managed to remove the stake from his side and still stay conscious. "Dee!" I cry, seeing how much blood he's lost. We may have already lost Mother - am I going to have to lose him too?

"Help me," he whispers, reaching out a hand. I take it and try to maneuver him to his feet. He's too heavy for me to carry, but I can take most of his weight. But he's resisting. "Help... heal," he says.

"Dee? Dee, I don't understand. I can't heal!" Is he in shock? Delirious? And where the hell are the other Keepers and the medics?

"Give me your hand," he manages, blood coming to his lips. "Help."

I still don't understand, but I do as he asks. His grip is so tight it's almost painful and instead of the glowing inward flow of power I associate with his magic, I feel a backward flux; he's drawing energy from me! Realizing what he wants, I strain to give my strength to him, to offer everything I am. "Dee, please don't die," I say into his hair. His blood is staining my knees.

Slowly, painstakingly, the wound at his side begins to close. Blood ceases to flow down his body. He releases me and we both drop down into the gore, exhausted. "D-dee?" I shake him a little, trying to catch my breath. I feel like I've just completed a high speed chase -- on foot. "Dee, the fire."

His eyes crack open, showing understanding. But instead of getting to his feet, he rocks onto his knees and begins to crawl. "Can't," he says when I stand, and I realize that he drew only enough energy from me to survive. "I'll help you." Putting my arms around him, I draw him up and begin to move both of us across the floor. Before we're down the steps, Dragen and Tieg are with us, taking Dee out of my hands. JJ races off with Dee, of course, but Tieg stays to look me over.

"Are you okay, man? You guys look like you stumbled out of a slasher movie!"

"I'm okay. Dee's hurt though - bad. Someone set a bomb off while he was inside. A piece of one of the ceiling beams went right through him." Tieg looks sick. "He healed himself up, though."

Tieg looks at me like I've sprouted lime green wings with purple polka dots. Maybe he doesn't know Dee's a healer. "He healed himself?"

"Yeah, he can heal." I wonder if he feels skittish about magic, if it scares him like it scares me. I see the Commander coming toward us across the street.

"I know that, but a wound like that? It takes strength for a healer to do their work, and they usually take some of the wound on themselves. If he had organ damage... well, even healers can't do much, not for themselves. We don't just have medics because some people are suspicious of magic, y'know."

"What do you mean they take some of the wound on?" He's not making any sense... or maybe it's just the weakness, the shock.

"That's what healing _is_. Did you skip that class at Academy or what? If a healer cures a fever for someone, then he suffers a little fever himself. I'm surprised he'd try to take this on himself."

_Suffers... Every time he's healed me... oh gods. Dee! _ "He didn't," I whisper. "I helped him."

Now Tieg is _really _gaping. "You're a magic user too?"

"No. He just grabbed my hand... and something happened."

His eyes are sweeping over me as if we've just met... or as if something colossal has changed between us. "Dude, only two people can help a healer with their work: another healer... or someone they share a bond with."

The Commander arrives in that moment and Tieg backs away, still looking at me with new eyes. "Clarion, why aren't you with the medics?"

"I'm not hurt, sir." I sketch a hasty salute. "This is Dee's blood." I want nothing more than to follow my partner, to make certain that he's going to be okay. While we were connected, during the healing, he gave me a feeling that he would be. "I need to see a profiler, anyway, sir. I saw the man who set the bomb."

From then on out, I'm in the hands of my fellow Keepers, answering questions. But Dee never leaves my mind.

It's evening when the medics finally release my partner to me, insisting that he rest for at least the next few days. I know he'll actually need much less recovery time; but I'm not about to argue magic that I claim to not even believe in with a bunch of scientists. I'm just glad to get Dee to the car and start towards his home.

He's uncharacteristically withdrawn during the drive, saying nothing, looking out the window. His odd behavior remains unchanged as we go inside, his eyes staring out into space. I know it's more than the pain he's in and can find no words to offer. But then, how do I expect him to act? He may have lost his Mother for crying out loud.

He's perched in the half-bed, half-window seat and I go sit beside him after putting some coffee on. He'll want it later. For now, I don't know what would help him, besides a call from the medics that say she'll live.

"Why don't you try to get some rest, Dee?"

He turns toward my voice as if toward a refuge. There's longing in his eyes, and pain. He slips an arm around my shoulders without a word, drawing me up for a deep open-mouthed kiss. My eyes fly open in surprise; despite all that's happened, his kiss feels so _good_. It's like I can feel the kiss as he experiences it too; I wonder if the connection we made during the healing is still open... or if Tieg was telling the truth. Letting my head fall back, I close my eyes and decide it doesn't matter. He feels too amazing to allow anything else to matter. The bombing leaves my mind, as does work, and worry, and Bikky. There's only Dee, and the feel of his tongue in my mouth, searching, and the feel of me - giving into him. When he draws up to kiss my neck, kneeling over me, I hear myself sigh. I know this could be bad. He's hurt and needing comfort -- and he may choose to find it in my body. Of course, right now, I'm not even trying to get away from him. Right now, I think I'd let him use me, if it took the pain from his eyes. My shirt's open and he's kissing down my neck when all of my shame and fear hits me.

_You don't like, Dee? _she asked me.

_It's not like that_, but I can't!! As I'm clinging to him, letting him kiss me, I know that I can't do this. I can't let this happen.

He stops and stares at me - hunger in his eyes where pain used to be. My heart pounds in my ears as he stares. Then he reaches forward and, of all things, tweaks my nose.

"Dee! What was that for?"

He shakes a warning finger at me. "You better start trying to get away or something, dude. Otherwise I'm going to want to go all the way."

Oh, Dee. I know that's what you want - and it scares me. What scares me most in this moment is that, for just a minute, I wanted it too. I struggle back into my shirt as he says, "You're just like her, you know. You both let me get away with too much." He runs a finger across my face, softly and with regret.

"She told me a ton of stories about you, Dee. About when you were little and hurt yourself all the time - then healed up so quick. It took the Academy to train you, but you had your gift all along. She told me about all the bad things you did too - shoplifting and picking pockets - and how much it surprised her when you came up to her after graduation and said you wanted to be a Keeper."

"She paid for it all, you know? Raising money for me to go to the Academy, and all. I was there for five years instead of four, but she never complained. And I've never paid her back for anything. Anything at all."

He rests his head on my lap and my fingers stroke through his hair. I'd never even consider touching another guy's hair - but with Dee... it's just different. "Mother will be fine," I soothe.

"Don't just say that."

"I'm not. I know she'll be all right. I want to talk to her more, so don't worry." Against my own will, I find myself wanting to know everything about my partner - and Mother knows it all. She has to be okay.

"Don't worry," I say again, leaning over him, my hands on either side of his face.

He throws his arms up, drawing me down, and I give him these kisses like gifts, pressing my lips to his soft mouth until sleep claims him.

**DEE**

It's the damn comm system that calls me out of deep sleep; that healing cost me. Rhyoh's still sleeping - sitting up, if you can believe it - and I know his legs must be asleep from where my head was resting on them. "You're too nice for your own good, sometimes." I tell my sleeping partner, brushing his bangs from his face. "You're gonna feel like shit from sleeping like that." I'd drive the pain out of his muscles, but I'm afraid to try any sort of magic right now. I really wasn't sure I was gonna make it out of that last one. If Rhyoh hadn't helped me...

I finally make it to the phone. "Hello?"

Dragen's voice comes through. "Just calling to tell you how things are going on the case, Rhyoh."

Now would be the time to say that I'm not Rhyoh... but to hell with that. Rhyoh must have told them to call him here.

"We've got the guy on the run right now, but he's pretty damn shifty. Keeps ducking in and out of buildings and shit - but we'll get him. The 13-&-4 IDed him as Ghent Byron. We'll pick him up before he makes Loreacre though."

"Thanks, Dragen."

Something in my voice - perhaps the sudden cold - let's my coworker know it's not Rhyoh on the line. I hear him screaming as I drop the phone and snatch my coat and the keys to my ship. I don't have time for the car right now. I hear Rhyoh behind me asking me about something.

"Nothing!" I call. "Go back to sleep."

The door slams behind me on my partner's bewildered face.

**RHYOH**

I make my way to the phone only to hear Dragen on the other end, screaming for Dee to wait, to reconsider. Oh no! Dragen warned me about Dee when he told me that the Commander had put us off this case. "Don't pass anything I've told you about the case onto Dee, got it? That hot-head would probably go rogue and find the sorry bastard himself... and well, you know he can shoot two guns at once. I'm telling you man, if Dee wasn't a Keeper, he'd make a damn fine criminal for us to chase!"

And now he _has _gone rogue and I'm in his empty apartment, staring, unsure of which way to turn. If I turn him in to the Commander, he may very well loose his job - and I'd lose my partner... and the man I spent most of the night making out with. I don't know what it says about me - maybe I'm becoming a rather poor Keeper myself - but I just can't play by the rules this time. I know Dee's in violation of our code and that he may be a murderer before sunrise, but I can't lose him. Not now.

Pulling on my coat, I decide to go to Dragen. He'll know where the killer is, and maybe he can lead me to Dee.

I find Dragen in midst of a bunch of cruisers, near Loreacre, by following the reports coming across my wristband. He's less than happy to see me.

"What the fuck, man? You said you'd get the phone!"

"I fell asleep. Look, it doesn't matter now. Dee knows, and he's out here, same as us. I'm not turning him in." The edge in my voice should suggest to Dragen that he shouldn't think of doing so either. "I've got to find him."

Dragen looks like his head's about to spin around and go airborne. "Dude, how can you be so freakin' calm!? Are you made of ice or what!? If Dee gets to Ghent first... I don't even want to think what will happen."

I _know_ what will happen. We'll be hunting Dee the same way we're hunting this guy... and whatever it is that we share can take _me _right to him. I feel like smacking myself in the face. That healing must have taken my brains out with my energy.

"I'll get back to you, Dragen," I holler over my shoulder, racing away into the night. With a happy laugh, I throw my mind open, expecting to smack right into Dee. What I smack right into is a mental wall that leaves me wincing in pain. "What the fuck is he doing? And where'd he learn to do it?" Huh. So my partner apparently knows how to keep me out of his mind if he wants - and he's a step ahead of me in distance and tactics too. Nonetheless, I'm a damn good Keeper, and I'm going to find him.

**DEE**

Apparently Rhyoh hasn't turned me in. That's a comfort. It's be kind of a traitorous thing to do - kiss a man, then send him to jail. With him blocked out of my mind, I concentrate on the street signs and what I know about Ghent. He's a small timer, hired help, according to the dark side of the grape vine. And if there's one man who knows all about the hyenas in the jungle - it's Tam Imigo. And I know just where he'll be.

Throwing my lighted cigarette out in the street in an arch of gold and fire, I enter the gambling den. Tam's not all about leaving his winning table and the ex-pleasuresses that have gathered around his newfound riches - but a gun can be a damn persuasive thing. He had the nerve to call the thing an antique when I pulled it, but he shut up fast when I fired my "antique" off. Flashing my wristband shut the owner up, too. He really doesn't want the law called down on his little establishment.

So it's me and Tam, out behind the joint, the cold night all around us and me wanting to get to Ghent before my Keeper pals do. I'm not really in the mood for justice served in a court of law just now. I'm feeling much more eye for an eye.

"Where's Ghent Byron?" I ask the low life.

"I don't know," he says, just like in some detective story B movie. They always say that.

My fist flashes out and throws him up against the fence. My powers tell me that I broke his damn nose; healers can use they're powers to hurt, too - though we're not supposed to. I'm breaking a lot of rules tonight.

"You can't do that!" he snarls at me from the ground, but I know he's all bark and no bite. A broken nose might even improve his appearance.

I walk towards him, gun in hand. "Wanna try me, Tam? Where's he hiding out?"

Information retrieved, I stride out of the alley with all possible speed. He'll be too scared to raise a ruckus for a few minutes, but I don't need anyone called down on me. I have an asshole to bury.

**RHYOH**

I see the bleeding man screaming and ranting outside the casino and approach him, wondering if he has anything to do with my partner. I expected Dee to leave quite a wake.

I flash him a smile and my wristband. "I'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."

His face grows dark as he realizes who I am. "I already told everything I know to one of your guys. I'm out of here."

He can only be talking about Dee. "What did he ask you!? Tell me!"

"Ask him yourself. I'm busy." He's already walking away from me, but he stops when he hears the hammer cock on my gun.

"I think you'd better tell me what you know."

My behavior back there was inexcusable, and I know it, but as I run toward Ghent's hideout, I don't care. All that matters right now is Dee - and saving him from himself. The attic room where Ghent's supposed to be is empty, but a cigarette still smokes in the ashtray. He's not far. I run down the fire escape and end up in an alley. Damn. Just a dead end.

"Sorry, man. It was just another job for me," a scared voice is saying on the other side of the wall.

"Who gave it to you?" My heart hits my throat at a dead run when I hear Dee's voice.

"Jerpe. He's given me good jobs before."

"And who's behind him?"

"Uh-uh," says the voice I take for Ghent's. "I don't know. It's better that way."

For the second time this night, I hear a gun being readied. Ghent's story changes immediately.

"He works for Myuki - he took over Am's crew, you know? Jerpe told me to stake out the place." He swallows hard, like he's drowning. "I was supposed to watch for you. It's you they wanted."

I gasp. For the second time, Cal's blunder is coming back to haunt us.

**DEE**

"It's you they wanted."

His words echo in my brain for what feels like forever. I see the frightened eyes of the unwanted children, losing the only home they've ever had, being separated and parceled out to other places until something can be done. I see Mother's body, broken and bloodied. I see my partner straining, face shining with sweat as he tried to pour his strength into me. The wound at my side still hurts, and it hurts deep. _I bring pain to everyone I care for. _

Ghent's still talking. "They have me 100 grand, man."

"One hundred grand!?" I'm shaking. I'm surprised the gun doesn't just go off in my hands. "For that, you put my Mother through hell?" I raise the weapon, sighting his face. "Die!"

"Don't do it, Dee!"

Fuck him - how did he find me!?

Rhyoh crosses the alley and places himself between my shot and Ghent's worthless life. I can't believe him.

"Don't do this, Rhyoh," I say, low and deadly. "Don't get in my freaking way. He's just trash, man, and I'm just taking him out. _Get out of my way._"

"Dee, cool it," he says, trying to pacify me. "Dee, look at him. His days are numbered. He'll pay for what he did, somewhere down the line. So let's just take him back to the station..."

I've heard about enough. I know my partner is as law-and-order, justice-for-all as they come, but that kind of justice doesn't exist. It doesn't satisfy. I have to do this myself. "I have to settle this myself! Get the fuck out of the way!"

He's screaming right back at me, matching me inch for inch. "No! I'm not moving! I'm not going to be the one who has to tell Mother you're a murderer!"

I hate him in that moment, hate him for using someone I love against me. Can't he see that I'm doing this _for _Mother?!? "You're not my friggin' guardian, Rhyoh! Move, or I swear I'll shoot you too!"

It pains him; his voice is raw and anguished. "How can you say that, Dee? I'm your partner - and you're my partner."

I can see only flame, flame, flame. "To hell with it - I quit being your frickin' partner! Move away!"

"You going to let me go now, Dee!?!? After all we've been through!??"

The words hurt me more than the stake tearing through my side, and in my pain, my hand clenches around the trigger. The gun fires - a loud CRACK! through the night - and smokes in my hand. In slow motion, I see the bullet wing over his shoulder, the rifling grazing his cheek, and bury itself in the wall. Ghent faints dead away. Dropping the gun as if it's poisonous, I sink to the pavement before I can think to turn it on myself.

"He's fainted," Rhyoh says, looking over Ghent before cuffing him.

"I'm the one who's about to faint," I tell him, shaking.

"I'm sorry, Dee, but,"

I can't believe _he's _fucking apologizing. I could have killed him for godsakes! "I know, I know, I know. I was in the wrong. You were in the right, okay?" I scowl at him, hating what he's done to me, how important he's become that now all he has to do is speak to tear my whole fucking world apart. "Did you really want to get shot by me that bad?"

He lowers his head. "Well, once you started in on that whole not wanting to be my partner thing anymore..." _It's like something keeps trying to take you from me before I can even figure out what you mean. If I wasn't going to have you anyway... damn you, Dee, I just don't know! I felt like taking that bullet wouldn't hurt as much as those words in your mouth. _"What did you do to keep me from finding you?"

"Shielding," I mutter. "I'll teach you."I wave him over to my side and he kneels at my feet. I reach up and touch the scratch, the faint line of blood where the bullet passed him. "Does it hurt?"

"It's nothing, just a scratch."

I'll heal it later, but right now, I need to do something else. "Don't move for a second." Reaching out, I encircle him with my arms and rest my head on his shoulder. _You mean so much to me you crazy fool. _"I owe you one, man," I say softly, into his ear.

He squeezes me back. "I'll just put it on your tab."

"Thanks." In that one word is everything -- a thank you for his acceptance of my past, for his help with the healing, for sacrificing himself to my desires, for his willing kiss, for not turning me in... and above all, just for existing, for being there for me. A world without Rhyoh Clarion would be a sad, sad place indeed.

**RHYOH**

Mother was sleeping when I visited the hospital, but her caretakers assured me that she was going to pull through and be as good as new. I walk into Dee's apartment, smiling.

Yeah, we both got in trouble for the other night: Dee for firing his gun, me for not keeping him out of the case. It could have been worse. He's not allowed out of his house for a week though - punishment from the Commander, but at least they're letting me keep an eye on him instead of some other Keeper. I try not to make fun of him about it too much.

"Dee!" I call, entering his place. Ma'at flits down to tangle herself in my hair before launching off to find her master. Dee comes out, swinging at a purple and white blur.

"Hey, man. What's up?"

"I went to see Mother. She's going to be fine."

Seeing his face light, I'm so happy that I'm the one who gets to bring him the news. Dee's attractive on his own, but his smile is simply addictive. I find myself needing the light of it to shine on me just like he seems to need those thin, golden cigarettes of his.

"Thank god," he whispers.

"We'll go visit her next week," I promise him.

"Sounds good. How're the kids doing?"

"They'll have the orphanage repaired in the next couple of weeks - the Commander got the regional governor to throw some money in that direction - so it will be even better than new. Ghent's locked up, but the Commander still wants you to be careful."

He nods. "I will be." He's staring at me now, and I should know, by now, what's coming. Still, his sudden movement takes me by surprise. Suddenly, I'm staring up at him, flat on my back.

Heat rushes into my cheeks as I wonder what he's up to. "What the hell are you doing this time, Dee?"

He's smiling - his own fierce variety of joy. "Well, now that everything's squared away as it can be, how about we pick up where we left off?"

I should have known that visiting him so often would eventually put me in this position... "Where we left off?"

He sees realization come into my eyes. "Bingo."

"I've kinda got plans," I tell him, struggling. "I'm headed home now, 'kay?"

He's not buying it, and one motion has me back where I started, straddled by his slim hips. I try not to let the sensation of being held captive by him excite me, but it sort of does... "Dee, stop it!" I cry as he begins kissing me... well, everywhere. "I'm not ready for this! Can't we talk this over? Are you even listening to me? Dee?"

He wrestles with me for a few more minutes, more playful than threatening, before pausing, astride. "I hate to point out the obvious," he says quietly, "But you didn't run last time, did you?"

Its true, and some part of me even wants this - wants _him_ on top of me. The rest of me is pure guilt - and a little bit of fear.

I try to protest, to make excuses for my past behavior, but he's lifting my head up and caressing my cheek. His kiss is warm and surprisingly tender, nothing like the fight he was just putting up, and when he stops and looks in his eyes, I can't deny what I see there. It isn't just lust.

"Dee..."

I lay back, close my eyes, and let him claim me.

**Narration**

Dressed to kill, Callista entered Dee's apartment without knocking. She knew this was where Rhyoh was to be found, since Dee couldn't leave by himself. What she didn't expect to find was the two of them in the window seat - smack in the middle of a serious makeout session.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed loudly. "You've done a lot with the place since we moved out, Dee!" A total falsehood, but it brought there fun to a halt - and she wanted to let them get rearranged before Bikky made it up the steps.

Launching himself back to his knees, Dee shook his fist at her. "Damn you, Cal!" It was bad enough that she was trying to get him killed - but to take this, too?

As Rhyoh worried over just what she'd seen and Dee tried to pull his shirt far enough down, Bikky appeared - and war began. Cal, who was intent on getting Rhyoh to order in dinner, just sat back with the blond Keeper, and watched the fireworks.

"I don't approve of your relationship with Rhyoh at all, you scumbag!" Bikky yelled, attacking Dee.

Dee lashed back with words as well as fists, and the apartment became an all out total-combat zone. "Just let them fight for a bit," Cal counseled a red-faced and somewhat (a tiny bit, at least) disappointed Rhyoh. "And when they get tired, we can call in dinner and all sit down together."

Rhyoh just sighed. "Sounds good, Cal. Sounds good."


	5. Chapter 5

HeartShy Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Fake belongs to Sanami Matoh.

Okay, I have to say right now that book 3 is my least favorite - so I had some trouble with this chapter and it probably shows. I'm sorry about that, but I'm doing my best. Most of the text is just fleshing out Dianna and Berkley, and though I love those two, I'd rather be writing our boys! Oh well, look for revelations concerning Rhyoh's past in the next chapter.

NARRATION

His fingers trembled as he turned the pages of the stolen book. He knew that his partner would have allowed him to borrow it if he'd asked... but he didn't want Dee to know he was looking at _Lifebonds_. It implied too much.

Certain phrases kept repeating in his mind as he thought through his relationship with Dee. _"Sudden connection, giving rise to the notion 'love at first sight,'... refusal to acknowledge the truth leads to exile from a fortress of comfort... soul-pairs are meant to be together, regardless of age, race, gender, etc...the force of the bond is often increased by stressful, dangerous, or exciting circumstances..."_

His hand shot forward, flinging the book across the room. The words _fit_ too well, described, too well, what he had been going through since he had met his partner. _But I'm not gay!_ his mind screamed. If the book was right - if Dragen was right - then he had no choice in the matter. Dee belonged to him and he belonged to Dee; there was no getting away from it if he ever wanted to have any happiness in his life. And all because of magic!

According to the book, lifebonding had not affected the human race (at least not in significant numbers), had almost not existed, until magic had been reborn in some humans. Furthermore, magic users were more susceptible than normal mortals, and they experienced the symptoms more strongly - _all_ the symptoms. "_Desire is a very real part of a lifebond - but the bond does not _create _desire where none existed, either. Bonds form only between intensely compatible people, despite what external differences they may share. Likely, some relationship would form between such a pair even in the absence of the bond." _

As a magic user, Dee would experience heightened desire - and heightened pain at having his desires continually frustrated. As a magic user (and owner of the book), Dee knew what he was experiencing - and had known long before Rhyoh had bothered to investigate. But he had said nothing. _By rights, _thought the half-alien, _I belong to him. But he's made no claim. _Torn by conflicting emotions, he wasn't sure if he admired Dee for his restraint - or hated him. He stalked into work with dark, storm-torn eyes.

**DEE**

I smile as I see my partner walk into the station. He's a wonder to me after all the jading and cynicism. I feel like smiling every time he speaks. "Gotcha breakfast," I say, tossing a bag at him. It might not have been his first choice, but it's _something_ anyway. I know it's hard to get Biks moving in the morning, so he usually misses eating until lunch.

Dragen passes us, running some errand or another. "Man, you didn't bring _us_ any food!"

"I feel no affection for you," I call, passing into the office that Rhyoh and I share.

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say, because Rhyoh's about spitting fire at me. "Dee!"

I'm not sure what he's so uptight about it; it wasn't that suggestive of a comment. Hell, I feel some measure of affection (sometimes) for that damned, winged mouse he got me! "What? I was only playing. Besides - you don't feel anything for me, anyway, and you make sure everybody knows it." There's a slight edge to my words, but all I was trying to do was be nice. He didn't have to attack me. "Your reputation's perfect and it'll stay that way." I drop into my chair, scowling, feeling more than a little hurt.

But, lo and behold, - he's not done with me yet! "And what's with stealing my file, anyway?'

I could lie about it, deny it, but I had kinda figured on him catching me eventually. "I just wanted to see where you came from. You said this wasn't it, so I wanted to know. I just had Gwen peep in and tell me - sheesh!" Oh yeah, I had her copy the pictures for me, too, but we don't need to get into _that_ right now.

"You could have asked me. I don't appreciate being spied on, Dee."

"Man, you're in a mood." I shove some stuff in a desk drawer, slamming it. The noise makes me feel better. "You're right, I could've asked you - but you don't exactly play it straight with people, y'know? You'd have pushed me away, just like you always do." This isn't how I wanted to start my week, fighting with the person I'd rather be kissing, but damnit, he's making me mad.

Ooh, but I seem to have hit a nerve. He's right in front of my desk now, hands braced on either side of him, in my face. "Unlike you, right? You just lay all your cards on the table? Nice try."

Oh yeah, the orphan thing. Well, surely he can understand that? Half-alien or not, someone at least _wanted_ him. I'm sure his house was full of family pictures and memories - he had people who cared about him, who celebrated his existence. I don't even know my own birthday. "At least I'm honest about my feelings!" I snap back.

"I don't know what the hell you expect me to feel! You don't have any right to me, Dee!"

"I never said I did!" There's no anger in my tone now, just bewilderment. I've never seen him so angry. I don't know what I did.

Fortunately, Rhyoh's around to tell me. "You ran off on me on our first case, you intercepted that message from Dragen - you freaking shot at me, Dee! You don't trust me at all!"

What the hell is he talking about? And he doesn't need to list my sins for me, either. I'm perfectly well aware what I've done wrong, and when, and to whom. But what does any of this have to do with here and now? "You're welcome to get another partner," I tell him, voice pitched low. "If being with me is so awful."

He's shaking, unwilling or unable to say any more. I wonder just what's gotten into him. Seeing as he's apparently done yelling, I decide to settle this my own way. I get up, come around the desk, and put my arms around him. He's overwarm from anger or pain, or something, but his body still feels good against mine. Cupping his chin, I bring his face up to mine and kiss him until I know he must be dizzy. Then I let go, and walk out of the office. I need a cigarette. Or ten.

**RHYOH**

"Goddamn him! Fucking hot-headed cocksure asshole!" I'm yelling into our empty office now, hating him for absolving me with a kiss, and hating myself for not being able to ask him about what's really bothering me - _**the possibility of a bond**_.

"Are you sure you aren't angry about something else?" a voice asks over my shoulder.

"Huh?" I turn to confront a woman who could easily be a pleasuress. Her hair is long - blond with pink highlights mixed in, and her eyes are done up like a pirate whore's. She's wearing a black leather sheath dress, stilettos, and every possible piece of jewelry - a heavy amber necklace, dangling earrings. Gaudy, heavy rings shine on almost every finger, and bracelets jangle on her wrists. Her nails and lips are bright red. Sunglasses rest on the top of her head and she patiently chews a stick of gum, waiting for me to get over the sight of her. Men probably stare at her a lot. "Who are you?" I finally ask.

"Denine Lawless, special investigations Marshall." Marshall is a high rank of Keeper - one I know that our Lieutenant Commander aspires to. I wonder what she's been called in for. She flicks her finger in the direction that Dee's gone. "I'm to be paired up with - what did you call him? That hot-headed, cocksure asshole?" She twists her gum around one finger. "Seems like a hell of a dizzy dance you two are doing. Is it a lifebond, or just plain old lust?"

What the hell? How many people are going to bring up this whole bond thing? "I'm not gay," I manage through clenched teeth, hating this thing between Dee and myself more and more. "I want a wife and kids, and,"

"And a white picket fence - yeah, yeah, I know the drill." She sounds distinctly less than convinced, almost bored. "Still, you weren't fighting back. Not that I blame you, understand - he's very attractive. Lucky me." Her tone is all glee, now, and my anger at Dee changes into anger at her. What the hell does she think she's doing!? "Luckier still that you don't want him," she adds, watching me closely, lowered eyelids giving her a coy, almost sly, look. "Clear field and all that."

I find nothing to say, seeing black as I am. Who does she think she is that she can just swoop in here and make Dee hers?

"Oooh, well, gay or not - you're certainly jealous. Interesting. Allend might have a harder time than he thought."

"Commander Rothschild? What are you talking about?" Suspicion sweeps though me. The Commander... well, he treats me differently than anyone else at the station. I feel his eyes following me all the time as I move through the office. He's invited me to dinner several times, but I always refuse, citing my need to be home for Bikky. I throw Bikky between myself and Dee all the time, too. I should really stop using a child as a shield.

"You're a little bit of an airhead, aren't you?" She asks, pinching my cheek like some great aunt I haven't seen in ten years. "Think about it - when's the last time you heard of a Lieutenant Commander going out on a case himself? It's a desk job, a coordinating position. All the grime and blood and nasty photos stay with the other Keepers. He's after you. That's why he gave me your partner - so he could work with you."

This is the first time I heard anything about it... Dee's going to be chewing nails...

"I'd be cautious," Denine offers. "I'll bet your dark-haired friend has a jealous streak, too."

I want to protest, to say that she's misread me. I'm not jealous over Dee - am I? "I guess I'd better go find him," she says. "Best of luck with the picket fence."

I return to my desk, feeling hurt and lost. I know that Rothschild will be in to get me soon; I'd better try to calm down before he does.

**DEE**

Pay day needs to get here - and fast. I'm going through my cigarettes all too quickly, and I know I'll need more before the week's out. I knew something was up when Old Brushface got packed off for an all expenses paid vacation. Yeah, I know just who made sure all those expenses got taken care of, too. Somebody with plenty of inherited money to throw around - and absolutely no fucking scruples about how it gets thrown. Yeah, that's right - Rothschild. I'm sure the best investigator couldn't prove it of course, but I don't need proof when I've got his smarmy I-got-away-with-something smile. Having the Commander out of town would have been enough in my opinion. With him gone, there's no one between me and Rothschild; I'm surprised he hasn't demoted me to janitor yet.

Of course, if he did that, I wouldn't be around for him to torture. He must have been planning this week for a long time, tallying all the little things I did to him (salt in the sugar bowl, wiping his computer files - small stuff) and just waiting, like a big fat spider - all poison and patience. And now he's got the one thing I want all to himself, for a whole week! Rhyoh. Shit. If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was Rothschild who tipped Rhyoh off about me stealing that file so he could set up the fight between us. So Rhyoh's angry at me and alone and with _him_ - Mr. Money and Style and Privilege. Mr. I-Can-Give-You-Everything-You-Ever-Wanted. What have I got to offer next to that? Hell, half the time I probably couldn't pay to take us out. And, courtesy of Rothschild, I get Denine - the Harem Queen herself. She's telling me about the case, but I'm not listening, moping and mourning the loss of Rhyoh until her deadly red nails come to rest beneath my eyes.

"We're going to go over this once more, Keeper. They say when you lose one sense, the others improve. If I catch you daydreaming this time, we're going to test the theory."

She doesn't scare me; not really. "Awright, awright. Tell me again."

She turns her computer toward me and pulls up a string of pictures. "These are the two original victims: Anise and Eva. They were fifteen, high school pals." She keys up the next picture. "This is Anise's brother, Rod Feldon. He's our fugitive and he made it from Pith to here - leaving bodies all along the way - mostly pleasuresses." The pictures of twelve other women appear. "These are the other victims."

"What's our profile?" I ask, feeling a deep disgust for this Feldon creep. What kind of monster takes down women? "Mother abused him?" It's the usual excuse we hear from men who hurt women. I don't buy it, of course.

"Yes and no. She was a pleasuress, too. Ran out on him and Anise several years ago. We think he killed the girls because they were considering going the same route. He's attacked pleasuresses before - just sees them and goes crazy - but he never killed anyone."

I look over my temporary partner. "So, shouldn't we be getting you a protective detail?"

"What?" I can tell she's annoyed at me for thinking she'd need protection, but maybe a little happy about my concern.

"Well, I mean, you're totally his type. Wouldn't want you getting attacked."

She thwaps me with a file. "Dick. You need to be reading these over today, by the way."

"Sure, sure." I'm already pulling on my jacket.

"Where are you going now?"

"Shooting range, I think. I'll pretend all the targets have your friend Allend's face on them."

"Oh really? I thought you'd be more interested in what's going on in his office..."

Something in her tone gets me to turn real fast. "So are you in on this or what?"

"I wouldn't go that far. Allend's just a childhood friend, if anything. I know he wants to get your partner into bed though - just like you do."

My teeth grate back and forth. "So what's your role, huh?"

"Removal of the thorn in his side," she says sweetly.

"Thorn in his side, huh? If I'm a thorn in my side, he's a..." my words degenerate into growling.

She grabs my chin, holding my face close. "I still expect you to do your job, Keeper. And it better be your best work." She softens. "Besides, you're quite the cutie. I think I rather like you."

Oyyy. The man I love is throwing insults at me and the woman who should be my nemesis thinks I'm cute? "Sorry honey, my eyes are set on Rhyoh. So don't fall in love with me." I give her a wink before passing out the door. "But I don't exactly hate you either, just so you know."

**RHYOH**

Fingers pressed in my ears, I watch Dee make an uncanny 7 out of 7 shots - almost on top of each other. I'm a much better shot than him, usually. He must still be pissed; he always shoots better when he's angry. It's a wonder he missed when we had the confrontation over Mother's attacker. As unsettled as I am by him, I can't deny that he's a pleasure to watch. His eyes are narrowed, centered on the target, the gun holsters banding his white shirt with black. Through it, I can see the muscles in his back, and his dark pants are belted tight around his lean waist. The shot flies true and he keeps his stance, weapon smoking in his hand.

I wait until he doffs his headphones before asking, "Did you really knock back there?" He retrieved me from the Lieutenant Commander's office and dragged me here. It surprised me, since I figured he's still be pissed at me from earlier. In fact, I think he is - but then, I know he doesn't trust Rothschild either. Considering the weird way the Lt. Commander was acting... I can't really blame him. I can't blame him for his anger either. I've been treating him badly lately... but this bond thing has me confused. And scared.

"Sure," he says, not even trying to hide the lie in his voice. "As if."

Anger blazes through me again. "I knew it! You really _don't _trust me, do you?" It's the second time today I've made that accusation. In reality, it's myself I don't trust... but I don't want to deal with that. Not now.

He ignores me. "Care to explain what I was walking in on?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business, but I was just turning down his invitation to dinner." Like I said, it's not the first time he's made an overture of that kind - and with every offer he suggests (just slightly) that if I'd say "yes" a promotion would be right around the corner.

He's got his headphones back on again, aiming with deadly accuracy. "Looked more like you were about to get kissed, if you ask me." Crack! The sound of gunfire mingles with the sudden noise in my head.

"What!?" He's really annoying me now with his goddamned accusations. Who does he think he is? I stride forward and yank the headphones off his head. "Why would he do that?"

"Why wouldn't he?" my partner asks, blunt as always. He's right - he doesn't hide his feelings.

As ridiculous as I find it (Denine was right, Dee does have a jealous streak) I have to admit that it's not a _completely _ unbelievable theory. "Hmm, it kind of does make sense," I mutter to myself, remembering how close Rothschild's face was to mine.

"You're so frickin' clueless sometimes," Dee says with a sigh. _I didn't just interrupt you because I was jealous, either. I want to protect you, you dork. _

For a minute, it's as if he's inside my head. I can hear his thoughts just like that time when Grenzmark captured me. "You've got to teach me to shield," I grumble at him. My head is crowded enough without him in there too.

"Sure," he says, looking away. In that moment he looks so sad, so defeated. I can't hear him thinking anymore and as he walks away from me without even a goodbye, I regret my words. He keeps reaching and I keep hurting him.

**RHYOH** - next day

"Worried?" Rothschild asks as we make our way down the street, hot on the trail of Anchius Gearhalt - a man suspected of operating a major kidnapping and prostitution ring. It seems that the Lt. Commander was tracking him at his previous job but he disappeared. Apparently he chose to relocate in our district - just in time for Rothschild's move.

"What do you mean, sir?" I ask my superior as I count the cracks in the pavement. I'm not at my best today, but I don't see how I could be. I mean we just ran into my partner and Denine, and she sure as hell didn't waste any time making good on her words. They were walking out of a hotel, arm in arm, and when the Lt. Commander asked them what the hell they were doing, Denine lost no time in telling us all - Allend, myself, and Dee - just how she feels about my partner. She even kissed him - right in front of me. He was ranting and raving the whole time, saying Rothschild had set him up, but I can't say I believe him. The guys at the station are always telling me how Dee will jump anything that moves. I guess they were right. And here I thought he was waiting for me. I shake my head as if insanity was something you could shake out. I don't want him waiting for me!

"Over him, of course." Rothschild's voice cuts into my thoughts.

"Of course not," I snap, irritated that he would pinpoint the source of my disquiet so quickly. "Why would I be?"

He chuckles quietly in a way that unnerves me. "You like to hide your emotions, don't you?"

"Is that bad?" Dee accused me of the same thing, just yesterday.

"No," the Lt. Commander replies. I know Dee would say differently. "I find I rather like it."

His strange tone stops me, and I turn to try to read his face - a face that's rapidly closing in on mine. _Looked more like you were about to get kissed, if you ask me, _Dee's words return to my mind. Reflexively, I throw an arm up between myself and Rothschild's steadily advancing lips, assuming that he'll get the picture. He just chuckles again, lower this time.

"Not bad, but you've still got a lot to learn." Grabbing me by my coat collar, he hauls me up - actually off the ground! - and takes the kiss he was wanting. Taller and stronger than me, he's able to just take what I didn't want to give. When he sets me back on my feet, my fist swings out and connects with his face. When we part ways (having lost the suspect because of his advances) I can tell that his lip is going to swell. So much for promotions, I guess.

**DEE**

"What the hell are you doing here?" is the first thing out of his mouth. Nice. Real nice. I've been sitting on his bed for half an hour - worried and miserable. He doesn't even look surprised to see me.

"I came to check on you. Where have you been?"

"Dee, I'm an adult. I can come home whenever I want to. How'd you get in here anyway?"

He's already mad at me, do I don't see any sense in lying. "Stole your key awhile back and copied it. You're oblivious for a Keeper. By the way, you're taking this all the wrong way."

He's throwing things all over the room now, restless and annoyed. "I don't know what you're talking about." The fact that he's not yelling at me about the key tells me a lot about his emotional state.

"That..." I grope for words. "That 'thing' with Denine at the hotel, you're,"

"Oh? We're just partners after all, so what could I possibly have taken the wrong way?"

Man, he can be catty! He _knows_ damn well that I want to be more than partners. "You're so unfair," I tell him.

He sits back against the pillows, pretty much ignoring me, freezing me out. _This is the way I am, _I hear him thinking, _deal with it or leave. _More and more of his thoughts have been coming through to me lately - evidence that our bond is getting stronger. I wonder if he's experiencing the same thing.

"Whatever happened to your suspect?" he asks. "Or was that just a convincing lie to cover up what you two were doing in that hotel?"

I never realized that he had a cruel streak to him... "Go ahead, take my friggin' head off," I tell him. If he wants to yell at me, I can take it, but the way I figure things, his story isn't sounding much better. "You and the Lt. Commander were going in the same hotel, if I remember right."

"You also saw us leave," he points out.

"There are lots of hotels. As for our suspect, Denine's on stakeout right now - it's her case after all, being a Marshall. He had a meeting at the hotel; that's why we were there. We're meeting back up tomorrow. She's hot for Rothschild, anyway - just so you know."

"It doesn't matter," he says, eyes closed. "We're just partners. You don't have to tell me what you do or don't do."

I've had about enough of this. He pulled this same stunt when JJ kissed me. He fucking knows that we are not _just partners. _Even if he's never going to admit it and send me to bed alone for the rest of my life, he still _knows_ and I'm sick of listening to him pretend he doesn't. "What you do matters to me!"

He's silent and still, and suddenly it comes clear. Guilt. Part of the way he's acting is not jealousy or anger - it's guilt.

"Something happened, didn't it?" I really don't want to hear the answer, but his silence is worse. "Rhyoh?"

He pushes up against me, annoyed at suddenly having me on top of him. I don't care. He's going to tell me, even if I have to hold him down all day.

"What are you talking about?" he cries, struggling.

"Oh, I don't know," I say with mock nonchalance. "Getting kissed, maybe? Something like that?"

"How could you," he begins, before throwing his hands over his mouth to stop his words.

My world goes red, then black. "I'm going to fucking kill him." I'm off of my partner and on my way to the door when he throws his arms around my neck, his legs around my upper body. I sink to the floor under his weight, trying to throw him off and reach the doorknob at the same time.

"What the hell are you doing, Dee!?"

What a stupid question. What does he think I'm doing? "I'm going to go beat the shit out of Rothschild," I snarl, trying to untangle his arms. "His own parents won't recognize him when I'm done."

"I already did it," my partner says with a sigh.

Fireworks and streamers whirl around my brain in the company of shooting stars and exclamation marks. "You punched out that rat bastard Rothschild!?" I'm sure the entire building can hear my happy cry as it dissolves into laughter. Oh happy day! "Man, that's friggin' rich! I'm proud of you, buddy!" I kiss his cheek. "I've kissed you lots of times and you haven't punched me yet!"

**RHYOH**

"Dee!"

But he's right, damn him. "Well, I've never been kissed by a man before," I say, trying to justify myself. "With the exception of you, of course."

Dee's at my side now, a million times more relaxed, hell, elated even. "Yeah, but as I recall, you didn't punch my lights out the first time I tried to kiss you."

Maybe I should have, but, "It's just different with you," I tell him, speaking my thoughts aloud. "When I hit him, I wasn't even thinking. My fist just swung out." But now that I'm comparing the two - was it really that different? Dee took his kiss, same as Rothschild, but I never even thought to lash out at him. And I haven't since, despite all the times his lips have been on mine. As I run through the memories, I realize that he's actually kissed me quite a few times.

"So, you didn't like it when he kissed you?" Dee asks. "But you don't mind being kissed by me?" He jerks a thumb at himself, grinning at me softly.

I don't know what to say... but I find myself needing to find the truth of something. "Dee, would you mind kissing me for a second?" The connection has been flashing in my mind for awhile - how Dee and Rothschild are so similar in a lot of ways. I can't help wondering if their kisses really are different... or if I'm just making things up in my mind.

"Do you really mean it?"

I sigh, seeing him way more excited than I want him to be. I just want to make a comparison. "Dee, I don't want you getting the wrong idea. Just a peck."

That's not at all what he wants to hear, and I find myself regretting asking him to kiss me at all. "Boo. _Boring_! If you're going to have me kiss you, you should at least let me show you what I've got."

"If you try to spice things up, I won't talk to you for a year," I warn him.

It's a juvenile threat and he cites it as such. "Dude, what are we like, kids here? It's not your first kiss with me or anything."

"Just a peck," I tell him again, a warning in my tone. Yet, as he shifts to face me, knees against mine, I can't help feeling fluttery. He lets his cheek rest against mine for a moment, our mouths a few inches apart, before touching his lips to mine. I watch his eyes close.

I was right. It's just like I thought. They kiss differently. Dee's kiss is just... _sweeter_. Suddenly I'm feeling like a fool, like a jerk. It was wrong of me to compare them like that.

"Well... thanks," I say as he draws away, mentally berating myself for using him like that.

Apparently satisfied that he fulfilled the requirements of my request, Dee takes advantage of my downcast eyes, and pushes me down on my back. Help! I think, wondering where this is going. I may have just started something I can't stop. He's moaning into my mouth, his dark hair falling down into my face. I think about fighting him, but my body isn't listening to me anymore anyway. My hands are tangled up in his shirt, buttons coming loose. I lay back and open my mouth to him, welcoming his tongue inside. "Ahhh."  
Around us, the room is changing. My familiar living room furniture has faded into a scene from a misty wood. I can actually smell the earthy scents of a forest. White and pink flowers tumble down around us. I gape, even as Dee continues to plunder my mouth.

Magic - it must be his magic!

I"m still holding tight when he draws back and gives a gentle laugh. "Heh, heh. We've come a long way if you're able to look at me like that, baby."

"What!?" The way I feel in his arms scares me and I feel myself giving into my fear and anger. "Bring my room back, Dee! You know I don't like magic."

The forest fades; only the flowers remain as I shove him off of me. "You're reading too much into this," I say, turning away from him. "I don't like kissing you at all. I'm not like that. " I can feel the words embedding themselves in his brain like burning needles; that kiss intensified the connection between us, and his pain adds itself to my anger and fright. "Now, I'd like to be left alone, if you don't mind. This being my place and all."

He stands without a word, eyes averted. I know they must be smarting; I know I've brought him to the edge of tears. I hate myself. He gathers up a handful of the wilted petals that he conjured and leaves without a word.

**DEE - **next day

"Well, well, look who's coming in in pairs, all cozy? No more trouble in paradise, hmm?" Denine asks us.

I wish she'd go back to threatening my eyes with her nails. They'd hurt less than what he said to me yesterday. "I picked him up. Don't worry about it," I snarl at her, thinking that she's the one who got this thing rolling in the first place, kissing me then asking, "He really doesn't trust you, does he?" as if our relationship was even to the point where trust was a factor. "What the hell did you call us out for?"

"Is a murder urgent enough for ya? Take a look at the vic." She points over her shoulder to a partially unzipped body bag. First Rhyoh getting angry at me, then Rhyoh being a tease (what does he think I am? A friggin' saint?) and now blood on the pavement. Life's just been peachy lately.

"Name's Donna Hawthorn," Dianna tells us. "Went missing about two weeks ago. A pleasuress. Notice anything unusual?"

"Lips and fingernails are gone," I say. "Just like with Eva and Anise."

"Bingo, Keeper."

"So Feldon's not keeping a low profile." Rhyoh is still staring at the body. "Somethin' the matter, partner?"

"Denine, what's her name again?"

"The vic? Donna Hawthorn. Why?'

"She's one of the girls who was kidnapped by the ring the Lt. Commander and I are investigating."

"Or at least," says my least favorite voice, "she's on our list of missing people."

Oh good, someone I can legitimately abuse. "Another late but superbly timed entrance, eh Lt.?" I ask, hating him for finishing my partner's sentences.

Presumably hoping to head off trouble, Denine turns to me. "What do you make of this, Dee?"

Goody, my time to shine; too bad I've been feeling way more like a storm cloud lately. "If a prostitution-slash- trading ring went to the trouble of kidnapping a gal, they aren't gonna let her wander alone. And they sure aren't going to let her killed."

She nods. "This was just a dumping ground for the body. Rod must be involved with your group, somehow, Lt. It looks like the four of us will be working together from now on."

A chance for redemption appears! "I'm working with Rhyoh!" See, I try to tell him with my eyes, I don't care about her at all!

The Lt. Commander actually puts his hand on my partner's shoulder! Talk about possessive. I want to shoot his fingers off. "Actually, Keeper, we'll keep this configuration until we close the case."

Of course he would say that - anything to put himself between me and Rhyoh. I almost can't blame him; if our roles were reversed, I'd do the same. "What the hell for?" I demand. "What's wrong with switching off?"

Denine answers for him- and she's pissed. "Plenty, fool. We started out with different cases - switching off now would be stupid. When I say 'working together' I mean sharing information."

I can't help it. "Aww, no fair. Boo." I've been "boo-ing" a lot of things lately - Rhyoh's light kiss got the same response from me. Unfortunately, I'm just a voice in the balcony - crying out my displeasure because there's nothing else to do, no way to change my situation.

"C'mon," Denine says, hauling on my collar. "We've got a lot of work to do. We might be able to find someone who witnessed the dumping of the body."

Satisfied that everything is status quo (i.e. - I'm Rhyoh-less) the Lt. commander says, "Why don't we try to find where Anchius is keeping Rod?"

My partner turns to me for a moment. "Hey, Dee?"

It's nice to hear him even saying my name, but I want more - some sign of concern or friendship or something. But I still haven't found my footing with him - not after he asked me to kiss him and then shoved me away. "What is it?"

"If you see Bikky, tell him to use the main roads, huh? He hasn't checked in with me and I'm starting to get worried."

I'm surprised at this; not his worry for the kid, but Bikky's bravery in this dangerous city. "That brat uses the alleys to get around? Here? He's either really brave or really stupid." You can guess what my vote is...

"I've told him not to with all the kidnappings going on, but when does that kid ever listen to me?"

"True," I agree. "I'll keep an eye out for him. Although a good kidnapping is probably just what he needs." I get a faint smile for my trouble - maybe things between us will clear up soon.

He starts to say something, but, "Denine?" is what comes out of his mouth. She's now resting her head on my shoulder. I wonder if Allend is paying her a certain amount per interruption.

"Aw, don't look so worried," she says to my partner. "I'm not going to try to steal him away from you or anything." Well, well, well - talk about reversals. Just the other day she was out to wither my budding romance and now she's actually being... nice. I barely recognize her this way. "So what's this kid look like?"

Rhyoh hesitates - he's clearly worried about how Denine will take his description of Bikky. It's one thing I can't about my partner - his hang ups concerning what people will think, how they'll react. Who cares?  
"C'mon," she prods at him, kicking at his foot with one of her heels. "Dee and I are going to split up anyway and I want to be able to recognize him if I see him."

"He's an alien," Rhyoh says, finally. "His skin is dark but his hair is gold. He has blue eyes, wears a red ball cap that says 'FAKE' on it." I'd never understood the significance of Bikky's cap, but it seems important to him; he treats it the way I treat the ring I wear on a chain around my neck.

"Bikky?" Denine repeats his name to make sure she has it right. "All rightey. Gotcha. No problem."

"Thanks, Denine. See you two later."

And he's gone again. Gone with the Lt. Commander. I suddenly feel a new and very real desire to see this case finished. The sooner it's wrapped up, the sooner I get my partner back.

**Narration**

"You serious about splitting up around here?" the Keeper asked the blond woman. "It's some pretty dangerous turf."

Amused at his phrasing as well as his implication that she couldn't watch her own step, she giggled. "Why, Dee Lyghtner - could it be that you're worried about little 'ole me?" She's never seen the old Earth film _Gone with the Wind, _but in that moment, she was a shoe-in for Scarlett O'Hara.

Dee winked and she thought that perhaps he wouldn't be so bad for Rhyoh after all - he could be quite charming when the mood took him. "I am a gentleman, after all." She already knew this; seeing her on his arm had obviously startled his blond partner, but he had only been trying to show some refinement, some class. Privately, she thought that Rhyoh should applaud his efforts - considering what she knew or had pieced together concerning his upbringing, refinement had come hard to Dee.

"Gee, thanks. But don't worry, I'll be fine on my own." She knew that her words alone would not convince him. Male ego, if nothing else, would insist that he accompany her and keep her safe. Denine had never had any trouble keeping herself safe. A demonstration was in order.

Her hands flashed before his bewildered green eyes in white blurs. Holding a fighting stance, she stared him down. Her clothes and makeup had been completely negated in her performance. He knew in that moment that she was a better fighter than he was -- and he respected her for it.

Hands help up, palms out as if to ward her off, he said, "Okay, you win."

She gave a smile that suggested that she always did. "I know a bit of the combat arts - just for health and beauty and all that jazz." She enjoyed leavening her serious moments by playing a ditz. Dee would never be fooled by her play-acting again, however. He watched her walk out of the alley, barely restraining a whistle of admiration. Even if she did have piss-poor taste in men (Rothschild and all) she was some woman.

Denine's solitary alley-wandering yielded nothing. Not a single person would admit to witnessing the dumping of the body. Sighing, she paused on a side street and pondered her options. She could continue to prowl the area in hopes that someone would give up the goods - but it wasn't a nice area and even though there was no honor among law-breakers, she doubted there would be many petty criminals coming forward to turn in a larger fish. Basically, all she could do was kill time and hope that Allend and Rhyoh found something. Assuming Allend could keep his tongue out of the blond Keeper's mouth. He hadn't been able to resist bragging about his miniature conquest, and Denine was less than happy about it. Still, if Rothschild's bloodied lip was any indicator, Rhyoh wasn't having it, so all was not lost. She'd known Allend since she was a young girl; their families had run in the same social circles. Secretly, she knew that part of the reason she was involved in her line of work was his decision to work in the same field. Every time he'd moved or transferred, she'd been one step behind him. In fact, using obscure connections, she'd always managed to collect a key to each of his residences. She'd never used any of them - but their existence made her happy. It was the small things, sometimes.

A golden glint caught her eye.

_Alien. Blond hair. Red cap. Uses the alleys. It must be him. _But before she could call out to the child she knew must belong to Rhyoh, that same child was snatched up by a large man in dark jacket. She knew in a moment that he must be part of the kidnapping ring. Denine wasn't about to allow Bikky to become another statistic.

As her legs and arms lashed out, she was glad of the demonstration she'd given Dee earlier. It had warmed her up. The man went down, blood gurgling in his chest. She'd probably broken his breastbone.

"Are you okay, Bikky?"

"Hey, how did you know my name?" he asked, instantly mistrustful.

"Your momma told me," she told him, teasingly.

It didn't take him long to put two and two together. "Rhyoh? So you work with the law, huh?"

"You're a bright one," she began, but was abruptly cut off by the appearance of another member of Anchius's ring. She was truly getting sick of the sight of thugs. Unfortunately, this particular thug had a gun. Firing her own weapon all around him she screamed for Bikky to flee. "Run Bikky! Go!"

Naturally, the noise and the gunfire brought all the wolves howling to the kill. Low on bullets, she found herself turning to her arms and legs again. _If I get out of this alive, _she thought, _I'm putting this dress under glass. With my arms and legs free, I'm kicking ass like _never_ before!_

As she disentangled herself from another sorry excuse for a loser, she found Bikky at her shoulder, eyes shining with pure admiration. "Wow! You're like the coolest lady ever!"

It pleased her; she liked kids, and she'd never been anyone's hero before. "Maybe," she admitted, "but this is wearing me down." Her eyes widened as she saw more men coming - all with weapons drawn. Brave as the kid was, she knew he couldn't be of any help to her in a fight. She also knew this wasn't a fight she could win on her own. She could serve as a pretty nifty distraction though.

"Bikky," she said low, just for his ears. "Dee's around here somewhere. He should be close. Find him and tell him to get his ass over here." She could deal with his "I told you so's" later.

One of her would-be assailants turned to run after the kid, but she introduced him to the comfort and pleasure of heels. After that, she became his main concern. She smiled sweetly. Let the games begin.

**DEE**

Monkey brats. What can you even say about monkey brats? They're always around at the worst possible times, they're small, hyperactive and annoying - and, oh yeah, they're frickin' human cannonballs! That's exactly how Bikky hit me - like a cannonball (an alien one though, I guess), flying out of the darkness of the alley and landing me on my back. We should use monkey brats as weapons on the force - they'd be like a mini-strike force. You'd never see them coming.

"Bikky!" I howl, knowing I'm going to bruise.

"Shut up, perv," he says authoritatively. "Listen, this is important."

"What?" I can't imagine what a miniature primate would consider important.

"This major hot chick was kicking ass big time," he begins, almost breathless with excitement and from running, "but now she's in trouble. She's a Keeper."

"Denine?" What could possibly have happened to her? She's the most dangerous thing on these streets tonight.

"She didn't tell me her name."

"Well, c'mon - rescuing damsels in distress is so my area. Where did you leave her?"

The kid's good in a tight spot, I'll give him that. Must have picked it up from Rhyoh. "This way."

**Narration**

Denine thought that her confrontation with the mob boss Anchius Gearhalt had gone rather well. She'd kept her cool, refused his offer of employment, and gotten in some pretty good cracks. Too bad she was going to die.

She was disappointed that she was never going to see Allend again. She'd beaten him with this case - had it all solved. It seemed that Anchius and crew had seen Rod's handiwork on the local news, and decided that, since he liked offing pleasuresses anyway, he might be a really good control for their operation. Anyone who tried to run was simply thrown in with Rod - and he made quick work of them. In the room where she was being held she had the company of several corpses in various states of bloody decay. In return for acting on his impulses, Rod got all the illegal substances he wanted; she could see the injection sites on his arms. She wished that those arms didn't hold an axe...

"Anise," the crazy man addressed her. "Didn't I tell you to stop wearing that lipstick? And those clothes, Anise. You're going to end up just like her."

He raised his axe.

**RHYOH**

We came across Dee and Bikky in an alley - Dee worrying over Denine aloud. "She's been dragged off somewhere," he fills us in, "But I don't have a clue where - or even in which direction. I told her we shouldn't split up."

"Denine never listens," the Lt. Commander says - surprisingly choosing not to berate my partner for the situation. "And if you'd stayed together you might have both been taken, and we wouldn't know what had happened. Rhyoh and I have a pretty good idea where Gearhalt might be hiding."

Yeah, and we got it by crossing the fine line between assertive and brutal. Rothschild had our information source up against a fence, his fist cocked to start in on his face. In that moment, the Lt. Commander seriously reminded me of my partner. Dee's a "get to the truth" kind of person, and he doesn't mind shaking people down to get answers. I'm surprised that he hasn't taken a harder hand with me. He just doesn't treat me like he treats other people, though. The self he gives them is tough, street-hardened, even cold; to me, he gives his humor, his care, and his gentleness. Sometimes his eyes are so wounded looking... I know I've done some of that. And sometimes when he's holding me, I pretend that it's the wounded Dee - the healer who can't heal himself. I hate to see him in pain, but I'm less afraid of him that way. He looks exhausted right now, careworn. I'm not feeling so good myself. I hope we can wrap things up soon.

As we walk out of the alley, toward Anchius's hideout, Dee grabs my hand for a moment. "Do me a favor," he says quietly - pitched just for my ears. "Take something, huh?"

I thought I was fevered a little... as a healer, he must have felt it. I squeeze back on his hand.

**Narration**

The shot took Rod right in the chest. He crumpled against the wall, his blood mingling with that of his victims. Other Keepers were leading Anchius and company out of the building and setting his captives free.

"Are you allright, Denine?" Allend asked, fully entering the room where she was being held. The mangled bodies there shocked him less than the sight of her.

"Allend," she cried, eyes suddenly damp, voice choked with emotion. Her rescuer had come after all!

He knelt down and took the wounded Marshall into his arms. "Think I got in over my head a bit?" she asked, trying to tease.

He held her tighter. "You're always in over your head. You work too hard, Dee Dee."

"The only times you're ever sweet to me are times like this," she told him. He kissed her forehead. "What are you talking about? I'm always sweet to you." Rhyoh, watching from the doorway, could only look on and wonder. Though both of them would probably have denied it, there was clearly a strong attraction between the Commander and the Marshall. He could almost see it. He wondered why they weren't a couple, then flushed a little. They weren't the only people he knew who fought against their feelings.

Moments later the medics arrived, and Denine was transported to the hospital. Feeling drained and burning with fever, Rhyoh decided to put off the paperwork required by the case, and take a transport home. He thought about asking Dee to come with him - they needed to talk - but another case arose, and Dee was called back to the station. He gave his partner a jaunty wave and a wink - and was gone again.

**RHYOH**

I wish Bikky would have come home with me instead of getting dropped off at Cal's. I hope what happened to him and Denine shook him up a little bit - my lectures sure don't phase him. The apartment feels lonely tonight. I've just got the bedside lamp lit - maybe that's it - but I don't feel like getting up and turning anything on. The whole city seems quiet, muffled. It must be the fever.

I wish Dee had come home with me. Wait, that's definitely the fever. Ten to one, if Dee _had _come with me, I'd be up all night fighting him off. I've got to find a way to clear things up between us. I can't keep sending him these mixed signals. I don't want to. I don't want him - I'm not gay! - but when he kisses me... it's like the whole world fades away. Everything I've ever wanted goes by the board and I just feel... good. Overwhelmed, but good. And it's him, too. No one else I've kissed has ever made me feel that way. But I can't let him kiss me anymore. I just can't.

I've got to stop worrying over this and go to sleep. I'll explain to Dee later. He's an adult, he'll be okay with it. He'll forgive me for acting like I did, for getting so mixed up. He knows I'd never hurt him on purpose. I rest my head on the pillow and close my eyes. Sleep is the best thing.

My eyes fly open when the door opens. I don't remember leaving it unlocked and the only one besides Biks who has a key is...

"Dee?'

He's got his coat slung over one shoulder and he's smiling brilliantly. I notice something lilac and white tangled in his hair. "Ta da - it's yours truly! I knew you weren't feeling good, so I thought I'd come try to cheer you up." He plucks Ma'at out of his hair and she flies toward me to land on my shoulder.

"It was her idea," my partner continues. "She likes you better than me." He shrugs. "Who wouldn't?"

"Dee," I hate when he belittles himself. I prefer his bravado - even though I know that the arrogance he plays at is really a cover for his insecurities. It still suits him better.

He comes to sit on the bed. "So, you feeling any better?"

"Not much," I admit. "Hey, thanks for coming over - I was feeling pretty alone there..."

"No problem. What are friends for?"

"Dee, I haven't been much of a friend lately." I won't feel better until I've cleared the air between us.

He places a cool hand on my forehead. "Shh. It doesn't matter. You want me to heal ya?"

I remember what Dragen told me about healing; if Dee lowers my fever, he'll have to deal with a small one himself. "No, I'll go with meds, but thanks."

He holds my head to his, our foreheads touching, his hands in my hair. Ma'at circles us lazily. I'm paralyzed, not sure what to say or do. "You're very beautiful, you know."

"Dee!" I'm sick and defenseless and he's gonna start in with compliments?

He withdraws and smiles. "All right, all right, whelp. Let me go find you some medicine, okay? Then I'm gonna see if I can clean anything up for you."

A few moments later he returns with medicine and tea - then disappears into the rest of the house. Usually I'd tell him he didn't have to do all this, but I'm just too tired to argue with him.

**DEE**

The house is sparkling. Perfect would, in fact, be an understatement. Ma'at circles the place - hunting like she likes to do, the white fur at her throat ruffling with the breeze she creates - and her small sounds seem to indicate her approval with the job I've done, too. Now to check on the patient.

The bedroom's dark when I peek in, and I can tell from the doorway that he's asleep. I cross the room to see if he's still fevered. If he is, I'll heal him when he's sleeping and he won't be any the wiser. No sense being sick when a healer's in love with you, ya know?

His skin is cool. I brush his bangs out of his eyes, loving the feel of his soft hair through my fingers. I sit watching him, yearning. I care about him so much... but I don't think he's ever going to let me show him. I don't think he's ever going to reciprocate. Sad thing about lifebonds - they have to be accepted by both parties. I sigh and decide that there's one small trespass I _can_ get away with.

Bending down, I kiss his sleeping mouth. I mean it to just be a light kiss, but not being able to touch him or kiss him has left me with a bad case of Rhyoh-withdrawal. I kiss him hard and deep and long, and his eyes flutter open. Instead of the anger I expect (and fully deserve) he just relaxes beneath my mouth and let's his eyes close. I hear his thoughts: _Maybe just this once... _ For tonight, it's enough for me.

**RHYOH - A few days later **

"You're going back?" I asked Denine. She'd come down to the station to say her goodbyes after being released from the hospital. Without her makeup and jewelry she seems curiously subdued, peaceful. I wonder if she knows that she's beautiful without the stuff. Her arm is bandaged and she has a few cuts on her face, but she looks well on the way to a full recovery.

"Yeah." She smiles. "I've got time off until I get patched up - and I do have a house in Feysilver. I should probably go crazy and do some of my living there. Where's the odd couple? I want to tell them goodbye."

I can't help smiling. "Guess." She follows my gaze across the office to where Dee and Rothschild are at each other's throats, screaming insults and obscenities. It's not very professional out of either of them, but considering it's all over the way office paperwork is held together (electric adhesion or plain old-fashioned paperclips) it's pretty funny to watch.

"They're so much alike in some ways that you think they'd get along," Denine says, shaking her head.

"So you noticed that too, huh?" And here I thought I was just building castles in the air.

"How could you not? They both love being different, but they both know there are areas where they couldn't be more alike - so they fight." I chuckle as she narrows her eyes at them. "I mean, come on. They've got a hot piece of ass standing right in front of them and they don't even notice her." It takes me a minute to realize she's talking about herself. "Massive ego trauma, you know?"

"The Lt. Commander really cares for you a lot," I tell her. I could see it when we rescued her - the way he was looking at her.

She shakes her head, and sadness touches her smile. "Yeah, but it's just a kid sister thing, you know? Hey, don't you find it a little odd that you and I are bonding? You are my romantic rival, after all."

It's the last thing I want to be, but I decide not to revisit the picket fence conversation. "Trust me, I'll be rooting for you."

"Thanks. But hey, you know, there's one thing I can do before I go that will really get their attention."

I'm curious. "What's that?"

She hollers for my partner and the Commander. As soon as they've turned and noticed her, she reaches down and brings my face to hers. It all seems vaguely reminiscent of something else... Oh yeah! She's kissing me! Releasing me, she gives Dee and Allend a wave. "See ya, ladies!"

"Hey!!!!!" they cry simultaneously. She's not even listening as the ranting and raving begins. I flush, hand over my mouth. I prefer Dee's kisses to hers, too... sigh. At least I got her autograph like Bikky wanted - someone will get what they want, anyway. Chuckling, I turn back to the show.


	6. Chapter 6

HeartShy

By: SinnamonGirl

Disclaimer: Fake belongs to Sanami Matoh.

Thanks to my beta, as always!

This chapter tends to deviate from the manga quite a bit – but if you've come this far you've already tolerated magic use and purple bats, so hang in there! The thing is, without said deviations, this chapter was only going to be around 7 pages long and you people read a lot faster than I can write, so I like to give you plenty to read! Also, sorry for the time gaps – but I wanted to show Dee and Rhyoh's relationship progressing, and also for the Ryo-centricness of this chapter. I'm sure Dee will make it back into the spotlight later. Thanks and enjoy!

**DEE**

The door splinters around me after one good kick and I'm not even worried about writing up the report later. With my gun aimed and ready to fire and Dragen and Tieg behind me, I feel invincible. I love this job.

"Kurt Harrigen, you're under arrest for trading of minors, supporting an on-planet slave ring, and murder!!" My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else – all hard edges and command – and my Keeper's uniform feels like a second skin. I'm completely in my element, and when the scumbag Harrigen makes a move for the door, I'm on him in an instant. The cold, hard ring of the gun's mouth takes everything out of him. He slumps to my feet and Dragen puts the electric binders on him. Say what you want about advanced technology and lasers – sometimes old-fashioned hard steel and gun smoke is way more effective (and sexy too!). I pat the crook on the shoulder as he's leaving. "Happy Yuletide, Harrigen."

Dragen and Tieg join in with my off-key caroling all the way back to the station.

"Everything's taken care of, Commander!" I tell ol' Brushface. Head full of sugar plum fantasies, I even feel pretty good about the old tyrant. After all, he should have fired me over a half-a-dozen times already – and some of those out of a canon no less! Giving him my once a year salute, I barely hear him dismissing us, saying something uncharacteristic like, "Good job guys," with a smile in his voice. We're really all just undisciplined kids in his eyes, I think; he can't get too angry at us for wanting to enjoy the season. Excitement cider-bubbling up through my veins, I turn hungry eyes on my partner. He wasn't called out on the case, but I know his shift will be ending soon too. There's only one gift I want this year – him saying "yes" to a Yuletide Eve date.

"What do you look so happy about?" he asks, suspiciously. Rhyoh's _always_ suspicious. I mean, sure, I've tried to get into his pants just about every time the opportunity presented itself – but where's the trust, huh?

"Dude, do you even know what today _is_?" I ask him. It would be just like my sweet, airhead, cotton-candy-fluff-for-brains would-be-lover to forget what day it is. All he sees on the calendar are the days we're supposed to be in this station and other boring chores like that. He'd totally overlook the big red letters declaring a holiday. Oyy.

"Today?" He's thinking, trying for it – but I can tell that he's lost. You think the decorations would have tipped him off – even if there are fewer mangers about. With the merging of religions that began on Earth, holidays became more festivals than religious occasions – though some people still privately observe the rituals of the Church (whichever one they follow) and still proclaim "the reason for the season." I know that Mother will have lit a candle for me in the Church next to the orphanage and I'll return the favor tomorrow at midnight Mass. Tonight, though, I'm all about sin trumping salvation – though I'm not sure that having Rhyoh would be a sin at all. After all, he is my soulmate and God (whoever He, She, It, or Them is) should know better than to give me something I wasn't supposed to use. And I have been praying for him, too.

"It's Yuletide Eve," JJ says from the back of the room. "Dummy."

Beside me, Tieg is practically exalting, detailing all the whining and trading and actual work he had to do to get tonight off. Seems he has a date. Good – someone in this damn station should get some action once in awhile.

"Hey Tieg, switch with me, huh?" asks Dragen, right on the edge of begging. You'd think Keepers would be more of a stiff upper lip sort... but there's a lot of whining and groveling that goes on in the 13-&-6. Tieg's refusing and Dragen's got himself wrapped around his ankles offering bribes and laying it on thick. When Tieg refuses to give in, he turns to me. "Dee?"

"Don't even ask," I begin. "Tonight, me and Rhyoh - "

**RHYOH**

"Come on Randor, let's go," the Commander says.

All the color drains from Dee's face as I turn to follow my boss. "What!?" he cries. "Where do you think you're going?"

What's gotten into him, anyway? I think he's actually shaking. "Er, with the Commander. On a call." I'm asking him with my eyes why he thinks I need to explain my actions to him, but I don't think he's paying much attention to me anymore. Miniature flames are dancing in the emerald depths of his eyes and I'm pretty sure that smoke will be coming out of his ears any minute now.

"But, but you weren't scheduled to work tonight! Why? How?"

I shrug, still not understanding this interrogation and eager to get going before the Commander decides to start chewing me out. "I traded with Marty. It's not like I had plans."

His wide, green eyes swallow up his face. "You idiot! Haven't wondrous images of Yuletide Eve been filling your empty flighty head!? Even one!!??"

**DEE**

Supposedly, soulmates die at the same time. I wonder if strangling him will somehow cause my life to end too... Damn him! Damn his all-work-and-no-play lifestyle! Damn his wanting to help people out all the time! If he really wants to help someone, he could bloody well do something for me! It's been a year since anyone else did, since I even wanted anyone else.

I've been dreaming of this night for months. We could have walked the city streets together bundled up in our coats, looking at the decorations, the lights. We could have shared a glass of warm cider wine and shared our dreams – laughed about the resolutions we wouldn't keep. He could have told me about Yuletide with his family – I'd tell him how it was in the orphanage. We could have kissed with the snow and sleet hissing against the windowpane. And sure, I know it's setting my sights pretty high, asking for a Yuletide miracle and all – but we could have even made love. He hasn't even dated since he came to the 13-&-6 – he has to be yearning, at least a little bit. Doesn't everyone want to be held? Touched? What does he have – ice water for blood!!!???

"You cold-hearted bastard!"

"I'm cold-hearted, huh?" Clearly he's not impressed with my assessment of his character. Too damn bad, Mr. Super Keeper... ruining my beautiful, bullet-proof plans for work.

In that moment, I know I just _can't_ go back to my apartment. I can't stand it – another night alone... And _tonight_ of all nights!? No way. Gritting my teeth, I bite the bullet. "All right, Dragen," I tell the downhearted, dejected detective. "I'll switch with you." Hey – he at least _has _someone to go home to. If I'm going to be alone anyway, I may as well get overtime for it.

"Really? You mean it?" He's so damn happy. I could have been happy like that, but _nooooo. _

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. Go home to your girl."

And like that Earth cartoon mouse Speedy Gonzales, Dragen is solid _GONE! _And as the trail of smoke left in his passage begins to dissolve, I suddenly realize my very fatal mistake. Dragen has a partner.

"Dragen? Hey, where'd he go? We have a case."

Speak of the devil... or at least one of his lesser henchmen. JJ. This is ridiculous. I couldn't have planned a worse holiday. All I need now is someone shooting at me. I groan and Rhyoh smirks – goddamn him.

"You said you'd switch with him, Dee. Suck it up."

I'd like to tell him what to suck... but JJ has centered on me now and his eyes are wide and glittering. I feel like I'm going to be sick, and I'm supposed to be a damn healer. "I get to work with Dee tonight?"

He's actually scary when he gets like this. I never walk to my car alone when he's around. You never know when the sneaky bastard might take it upon himself to pounce.

"Let's go!" he cries happily. "We've got a safehouse robbery – and you know how long those take."

Rustling through my pockets for a cigarette, I have to ask, "So why do you look so happy, huh?"

He looks at me like I've suddenly transmogrified into a pirate or a giraffe. "Well, duh, Dee. I get to spend the most romantic night of the year with my beloved. With _you,_ Dee!" In a minute the honey-and-sugar of his words is going to carmelize... Why the hell can't Rhyoh ever look at me like that – even a little bit like that? Like I'm important and special and wanted? Why doesn't _he _think this is the most romantic night of the year?

"Stop with the scary talk!" I tell JJ, following him out into the nightmare that is my Yuletide. "This is work, got it!? Work!"

**RHYOH **

"What!? A mistake?" I exclaim when the Commander explains the situation to me.

He's all smiles, though. "Yeah – there was a crime in this area, but nothing the local enforcement couldn't handle. We got called out here for nothing."

"For nothing?" I can't stop a note of disappointment from entering my voice. "But I thought they needed a marksman?" My gun's all shined and ready – and now nothing? Just like that?

The Commander shakes his head at my zeal like a father smiling down on an amusing young child. "Take the rest of the night off, Randor. Go home – enjoy the holiday. Get some rest."

Climbing up the stairs to my empty apartment is almost painful. Biks is with Callista, since I'd figured on working late. That's why I forgot about the holiday – Bikky and I won't be celebrating 'til this weekend. I think he'll like his presents. They're over at Sue's house (the coworker who watched him while Dee and I were on vacation) to keep him from getting into them early. Though it wouldn't surprise me if he called my credit company and asked for a detailed list of purchases. He has no patience.

After putting some tea on, I straddle a kitchen chair and rest my arms on the back. I'm going to have to spend Yuletide Eve alone, huh? That's sad – even for me. I find myself daydreaming, thinking that if I had a girlfriend or something, it wouldn't be so bad... And then my partner's in my mind, grinning that same heart-stopping grin. No. Dee is not my... _something. _

But wait a second.

What was he saying before I got called out? I try to remember. _Me and Rhyoh... _What was he going to say? That we had plans? Was he going to ask me out? Why didn't he just do it then, if he was going to?

Hell. What am I thinking? It's not like I was really expecting him to ask me or something. Trying to jump this train of thought, I pour myself some tea and make my way to the bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it feels big and empty. Sleet hisses against the window and the wind's making a lonely mourning sound, crying for something lost. Sitting back against my oversized pillows, I realize that it's been a long time since the last Yuletide Eve I spent alone. I was seventeen then. The year my parents died. Right around this time of year. Maybe that's another reason I didn't want Bikky and I to celebrate today... I wanted to pretend like this day didn't exist at all. Too bad it didn't work.

**Rhyoh – Age Seventeen (Narration)**

The last person Randor Clarion expected to see when he returned home from the final day of school before Yuletide vacation was his aunt Elena. She lived on a totally different planet than his family's home of Nadj – something with New in front of it. He tried to remember as he walked up the steps to greet her. New Haven, maybe? New Abode. They rarely saw her.

"Hi Aunt Elena," he gave her a quick hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the holidays in Barcane."

She pulled him close. "Oh, Rhyoh, I'm so glad I found you quickly. We need to get to the medical center, Rhyoh. Your parents were in an accident."

Cold blades sank through his heart, despite the warmth of his homeworld. His parents had been returning from Raztalia to spend the holidays with him, which meant they would have been using a nearspace craft. He knew that few people survived such accidents.

His terrors were confirmed at the medical center. A surgeon was waiting for them, regret heavy on his face. "I'm very sorry. By the time they got to us, it was too late. We weren't able to bring them back."

He barely felt Elena's hand on his back, leading him back out of the medical center. But he noticed something out of the corner of his eye – the white and blue uniforms of Keepers. They were speaking to the surgeon who had delivered the news.

"What's with the Keepers?" he asked his aunt.

She lowered her eyes and tried to lie. "Well, it was an accident after all..."

At seventeen, Rhyoh was uncannily perceptive. He knew that Keepers were not called in for mere accidents between spacecraft. "Tell me the truth."

She swallowed hard. "A large amount of illegal drugs was found packaged in with the antiques your parents were bringing home. The Keepers are investigating them for smuggling." She sighed, deciding to tell him the rest. He had always been a strong boy. She knew he could take it. "As for the accident... well, it wasn't an accident, exactly. Their ship was fired on. They didn't have much shielding on it – why would they? I was told that they were barely breathing when they were brought in. They were hurt so badly that the bodies could barely be told apart."

From the hell of his loss to the hell of the burial – Rhyoh's life progressed. Standing still and silent as his father's body was lowered into the earth in a small box (cremation was always used to lessen the amount of land given over to cemetery use) Rhyoh heard every word whispered around him. He heard his family name cheapened, made less, by a crime that could neither be proved nor disproved. His mother's body remained in the custody the Keepers' – this was not the only funeral he would have to attend, and already he felt empty. He heard himself called the child of common criminals; heard speculations about the amount of money his parents had left him (quite a lot, actually – his dad had been skilled at investing  
); heard gossips wondering where he would go, what he would do. He was still a minor after all.

In the end, Elena reminded him why she's always been his favorite relative, and silenced them all by announcing that she and her husband were adopting Rhyoh to see that he finished school. Then she reassured him of his parents' innocence, which he had known for truth in his heart, and took him home. He wept the entire way home, knowing that the empty house would never be home again. He agreed to his aunt's promptings to sell the place and move in with her and Rick... but he wasn't ready to leave yet. He needed a few more days alone to grieve.

**RHYOH – present **

_And that's how I spent Yuletide Eve – weeping, sobbing, screaming sometimes. I hated them for leaving me, for getting mixed up in whatever had taken them from me. And then I begged for their forgiveness, begged for them to still love me. After that, I always had Elena and Rick. _Things were never the same, but he wasn't entirely alone in the world. He still had people who cared for him.

After graduating from the Academy, he'd set out to prove his parents' innocence. Even when he'd tried to run his parents' killers to ground, tracking them alone on his off hours, Rick had taken him aside and tried to council him, tried to tell him to leave it to the other Keepers – those older and more experienced.

_I wish I had listened. _

His stubbornness had almost cost him his life, and even though both he and his partner had lied to Rick and Elena about it, he'd known that they knew the truth. It was there in their eyes with the pain they felt at knowing they could never replace his parents, never heal the wound he bore.

As a newly graduated Keeper, he had followed a would-be informant, a man high up in the trade of Nadj's big drug: Lucidica. Rhyoh had assumed that the man might at least remember the slayings, remember the many pounds of Lucidica that had gone into Keeper custody following his parents' deaths. Unfortunately, a hit had been placed on the informant before Rhyoh could ask him anything behind the most basic of questions – and as Rhyoh had been trailing the man he was killed. In his fury at losing the only link to his parents, he had shown himself to the killers.

_They were magic users. Minor ones, of course, untrained and small enough to stay off the radar of the Magic Crimes unit – but perfectly capable of dealing pain. _He shuddered and pulled his coverlets around him. They'd backed him across a bridge over the rapids, spray making each step treacherous. At the time, he couldn't understand why they didn't just kill him. _They were just starting in, getting ready to have their fun with me. _They'd captured him and bound him – bloodying him a little in the process. They forced him to lie face down on the bridge, facing his fast-running grave. The river below was a sick pink from the red rocks that lay under the current. Then they laid into him with their knives, calling him a dog, cursing his rank. One of them had gotten a good look at his eyes, and their curses changed – cited his heritage, his "inhumanity."_ Half-breed. _Alien. They had abandoned their crude weapons and laid their hands on him... and the true pain began.

He wasn't sure exactly what kind of magic users they were. After his experience he'd blocked out all he'd ever known about magic and refused to learn more. Such power had no place in his world.

_One called pain into my skin – like a healer in reverse. He split bones that were already broken and introduced infections to open wounds. Another could talk into my mind and he said the most horrible things... I think his voice could have made me kill myself if my hands hadn't been tied. The third could levitate – a little. He lifted me up above the river and I prayed each time that he would drop me. That it would end. There's some dignity in drowning, at least. _

Just as he'd begun to lose his hold on consciousness, his partner and backup arrived. He'd been in the medical center for three months, refusing to let a healer near him. His Commander was urged to dismiss him permanently, but he merely suggested (strongly) that he transfer – away from Nadj.

Remembering his nights in the hospital bed, weeping for the loss of his parents and for his failure to redeem them, Rhyoh felt his eyes beginning to sting. "I'm making this worse for myself," he said, out loud, trying to keep his throat from closing. "It's just another day. And I've spent lots of nights alone, right? No problem."

**DEE**

My walk through the city has me almost shaking with cold. There's snow melting in my eyelashes and my hair and my scarf's half-soaked through. I need to buy a new coat – one without the lining worn through – but this one's become a second skin. I couldn't bear to just toss it aside, belonging to Alberich like it did. For all that I'm shivering, a warm flash swims through my skin as I pause in front of the door to Rhyoh's apartment. Smiling, I raise my hand and tap on the door.

"Rhyoh? You in there?"

He doesn't answer, but the door's unlocked, and I let myself in. And there – fa-la-la-la-la – is my partner. Happy Yuletide to me.

"I thought you had a robbery," he says in place of hello.

"Haven't you ever heard of locking your doors at night?" I ask him. This air-headed streak of his worries me sometimes. "What kind of Keeper are you?" The temperature regulation system kicks on with a happy hum, and I feel the warmth through my clothes. "It's nice and toasty in here!"

"The robbery?"

"Oh, that." I take a seat at the foot of his bed. "Turns out the perp was a cowardly piece of trash, so he gave himself up right away. The Commander told me that you got to come home early too, so," I present my humble offerings, laying them at his feet, almost, "Ta da! I brought champagne, some munchies, and a teeny tiny tree!!" The thing is so very Charlie Brown – but it's slim pickings on Yuletide Eve, what can I say? The decorations – by yours truly – look very nice though. Can't go wrong with twinkly lights. I give his wide-eyed stare a wink and ask, "So, what do you say? Wanna spend Yuletide Eve with me?"

Silence.

Scary, long-lasting, you-could-hear-a-pin-drop, nothing-is-stirring-not-even-a-mouse silence.

Sob.

Sob? Like crying, sob? It seems so. My partner is sitting stock-still with tears gathering in the corners of his beautiful wild-colored eyes. What have I done? "Whoa! What's going on!? Are you crying?" I'm beginning to panic; I don't do well with crying. "Aw, c'mon man, you're like twenty-something... Quit it, please? And please tell me that whatever you're crying about isn't my fault..."

He makes a sound that's halfway between a sob and a chuckle, and swipes at his eyes. "I'm sorry... I just... I just can't help myself." He's giving me a big, beautiful Yuletide angel smile now. "You have no idea how happy you've just made me."

Words I've always wanted to hear. All I've ever wanted to do – fumbling attempt after fumbling attempt – is make him happy. I bend down to kiss the tears from his cheeks, tasting the salt of him in my mouth.

"Dee?"

No words are necessary. I can see submission in his multicolored eyes, and affection. This moment is his gift to me. The room spins away from us and fades into the flowerscape I always see in my mind every time he lets me kiss him. This time, he says nothing about my use of magic; he looks like a saint lying on my magic-made bower of mistletoe, holly, and white-throated lilies with their burning candle tongues. One hand holding me, he's kissing me back, and this is all I could ever want for Yuletide. No stockings necessary – no tinsel, no gifts, no bows – just the most gradual opening of Rhyoh's life and heart, just being let in. Far off in the distance, bells begin to chime. Outside over the sleepless city, snow begins to fall.

I leave the heaven of his mouth and lift my eyes to the glimmering whiteness – hazy and unfocused because of the dewiness of my eyes. "Hey, it started snowing again." Snow on this magical night – just one more Yuletide gift for an undeserving Keeper.

"Can you hear that?" my partner asks me. "The Church bells? It must be midnight." Smiling, he turns to me. "It's Yuletide, Dee." He draws me close. "Happy holidays, Dee."

I spend the rest of the night in his warm embrace – and I'm only a little disappointed when his sweet, even breathing tells me that sleep has taken him. For now, being at his side is more than I could have hoped for, and a greater gift than I'll ever deserve.

**Two months later – RHYOH**

Dee comes in without knocking and kisses me almost to my knees before I can even get out a "Hello, you couldn't have called?" One bad thing about having Dee for a work partner (and being such a plan-oriented person) is that he almost always knows where I am and what I'm doing. He also knows that Bikky's at school – so heaven knows how I'm getting out of this kiss before he has to resuscitate me. Lately, I've had the hardest time fighting off his kisses. I keep remembering that time after Grenzmark captured me. I don't want to remember it – how he took me, and claimed me, how all I was belonged to him. He felt so right... and what I've read of lifebonds in the vast databanks of the Keepers is beginning to make sense. It terrifies me. I can't blame Dee, either. He's never mentioned that night again, but his mouth remembers mine – hot and hungry.

He pulls away at last, momentarily sated, and deposits a handful of long black-stalked white flowers into a vase I didn't realize I had out. You wouldn't think Dee would be the kind of person to think of romantic-type things like flowers – but he's really very thoughtful. Sometimes he brings me books he thinks I'll like from used books sellers around the city, or makes me a mix of songs from his insanely large collection. Other times, it's flowers like this, or something to go with dinner. I try to tell him not to do these things, but he always counters by saying it's his money.

"But you're wasting it," I always protest – refusing to be dated by a man.

He just gives that jaunty little smile of his. "It's mine to waste, isn't it?"

So I have flowers now. From a man. My life has gone from strange to stranger since coming to the 13-&-6. Maybe I shouldn't have given him that bat...

"You're looking at me all scared to death again," he says gently in his best-friend voice.

I say nothing. In my mind, there's nothing to say. It's true, the things I read in that book did scare me. Dee's magic scares me. And the fact that he can speak inside of my mind – that really scares me. He reaches for me again, and I pull away. His hand slams down hard against the counter top and his voice goes cold, mocking. "Why the fear, Rhyoh?" he asks, jaw clenched, eyes staring down as if he's going to burn holes through the floor. "Did your dick get hard?"

It's not like him, to get this angry. To be cruel. "Dee!"

"Chill out, for godsakes. It isn't illegal. We could even get married, y'know." His tone lightens there at the end – leavened by pleading and by hope.

"M-married?" I stammer, totally unnerved by hearing that word come out of his mouth. Married? To another guy?

He sighs, a defeated sound. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize the idea was so offensive."

I reach out to touch his shoulder, feeling pain coming off of him in dark waves. "Dee..." He throws my hand off, jerking his body away from me the same way I pull away from him so often.

"I'm sorry," I try to say. The words sound funny in my ears, choked and constricted, somehow.

"Forget it. How about I teach you to shield? You'll like that."

I spend the rest of the day learning how to throw Dee out of my mind, how to cut off my thoughts from him, how to build high and strong mental walls. The funny thing is, even without his voice inside of me, all I can think of is him and the wounded look in his eyes.

**RHYOH – a few weeks later **

With a wry smile, I pause to drop the glittering crystal decoration into the trash receptacle. Another symbol of Dee's affection – something he conjured up with his powers. The crude, multi-faceted figures are clearly Keepers, and I know he meant them to be us. The Dee figure has a curious, purple glob of crystal on one shoulder – Ma'at, I think. I have a marksman's long barreled weapon leaning against my knee. One interesting thing about the figures – the one that's supposed to be me is carved (shaped, however he made them) thinner – light pours through the center of it, the heart. But the free hands of the figures are joined – and that's why I'm throwing them away.

Soundless but smelling of roses, Cal appears behind my shoulder. She's visiting Bikky to help him study and has come to the kitchen for a snack. She scans the contents of the trash can, eyes resting on the sculpture. With quick, pick-pocket fingers, she retrieves the piece of glass. "Dee made it, huh?" He's made me several such gifts, always leaving them on a window ledge.

I nod affirmation as she shifts the crystal, letting light flow through it to splinter into rainbow illumination on the floor. She looks into my eyes – open and guileless as ever. "You're afraid of his magic, aren't you?"

Just like that – she's found her way right to the heart of the matter. I could try to lie, to distract her, to dissemble, but I find that I just don't have it in me. "Yes."

"I'm a magic user, too, you know." I start to explain the differences between her and Dee, to try to make the distinction, as she conjures a translucent pink butterfly on the air, its beating wings sending up a shower of glitter and pink sugar. "See?" she says, as the butterfly melts away. "Was that scary?"

"No," I say, uncommonly fond of her, "But,"

"I know Dee wants you," she says, a little too directly for the young woman she is in my eyes, "Everyone does. But what he wants to give you – his magic – it's not scary." She replaces the sculpture back on the counter. "Stop throwing out his gifts. They cost him."

With that, she's into the refrigerator and back to Bikky's room. I stand stunned, dust rag in one immobile hand, watching light flow through the crystal. How did such a young girl become so much wiser than me?

**RHYOH – next day **

"Morning, Dee," I say to my bleary eyed partner as he staggers toward his desk, almost feeling his way. Dee's no good on first shift; he just can't function.

"Coffee," he croaks. I point to the heavy mug just beyond his fingers. A few moments pass in silence as the sugar and caffeine work their way into his system. He shakes himself a little – officially waking up.

"Good morning."

I just nod, smiling to myself. Engrosses in reports (I swear our sector has more paperwork than the entire rest of the planet) I don't seem him saunter up my side of the desk. When I finally notice him, he's leaning down expectantly.

"What, Dee?"

"Well, you were nice enough to bring me coffee – could I have a good morning kiss?" He really will try anything and I have to laugh at the sheer childishness of his antics. Gathering up reports that need filed, I drop them into his arms. "Get to work, Dee." He grumbles and pouts, but exits the office all the same. As Dee's leaving, Dragen enters with more paperwork. I wish I could say I was surprised.

"You're smart not to give in to him," says the other Keeper. I didn't realize we were being watched, and I'm doubly glad I didn't give Dee what he wanted.

"Hmm?" Usually I'd point out that I'm not gay, so not giving in is pretty easy, but the thoughts I've been having lately make me a little unsure on that point. I can't get away from the image of Dee stripping out of his clothes, coming to bed. But it's hard for me to accept that the other person in my memories is me...

"Dee," Dragen continues. "You're smart not to get involved with him. He'll nail anything that moves, y'know. Man, woman, alien, human – doesn't care. He's always been like that. And once he gets what he wants, he's gone." I'm surprised to hear Dragen talking this way. I was always under the impression that he and Dee were close. Maybe he's just having a bad day, though; there are dark circles around his eyes.

"I can take care of myself," I say neutrally. I should defend Dee, but I know nothing of his actions prior to my arrival at the 13-&-6. Station gossip has been loud about the fact that he's slept alone since I arrived, but Dragen's testimonial is making me wonder.

"You know why he chases you, don't you?" he asks.

_My charm and good __looks_, I think sarcastically. "No. Why?" I'm still working through my paperwork, only half listening. Bad day or not, Dragen should really get off of Dee's case. Or, I, as his best friend, should get up the guts to shut Dragen down.

"You're a challenge to him. He gets everything so easy – anything he puts his hand out for. Like JJ. He'll never even look at JJ. It's just too easy. But you're a new experience for him." He shrugs. "He'd still act the same in the end, though."

As strange as his conversation was, Dragen's abrupt departure is even stranger. He just stands and goes and I'm left wondering. It's like he came in to warn me or something. Well, it was a wasted warning. I wasn't planning on giving in to Dee anytime soon. I push back memories of our Yuletide kiss, of my words during our vacation. I've thought and thought but I still haven't figured him out, and Keeper or not, I'm not one to fall in love with a mystery – especially if I'm going to end up another of his conquests.

Another, less cynical part of my brain has to ask, "Would Dee do something like that?"

I can't see it happening. After all, he has already had me – off the record or not – and he hasn't given up. Would I just be a number to him, a one night prize? Can sex really be all he wants? And if it is, why do I suddenly feel so disappointed?

**DEE**

I stopped outside our office the minute Dragen went into his speech. I felt anger, sure, that he'd run his mouth about me to my own partner, but then, I know what this is about. You see, whether he's ready to admit it or not, Mr. Straight Man of the 13-&-6 Dragen, is starting to fall for JJ. He has no taste, obviously, but far be it for me to complain. Of course, as long as I'm around, JJ doesn't even _notice_ Dragen – so he's suffering a big case of the empty bed blues. They're a pretty annual problem for Dragen anyway – he never could keep a girl. Maybe this explains why. So anyway, he's pissed at me over JJ, but he has no right to drag Rhyoh into it. It's not like I'm having an easy time of it on my own – I sure don't need anyone else's help (or sabotage). I've got Rothschild for that anyway. As for getting anything I want – hah! Don't even get me freaking started...

But what really bothers me, has me glaring through the window until Dragen notices me and leaves in a hurry, is that Rhyoh has apparently bought Dragen's story – swallowing it hook, line, and sinker. Hasn't anything I've done for him made any impression on him at all? Letting him move in with the monkeybrats, the necklace, healing him after Grenzmark then acting like I've never touched him even though that's the hardest thing I've ever had to do – none of that means anything? Hell, then why am I doing all of this? I rest my head against the cool wood of the door before passing through it. I know why. Because he's my soulmate, goddamnit, and I'll be damned if I let a gossip with a grudge ruin it for me.

It takes him a couple of minutes to realize that I'm not working, just staring at him. "What is it, Dee?"

I clutch the ring hanging in the hollow of my throat, taking comfort in the feel of its lilac stone against my palm. "So, didja really believe all that?"

"Believe all of what?"

"Dragen."

He drops the pen that he's making notes with and his eyes go wide. I feel his guilt for a moment before he gets his mental shielding in place – bravo! You sure learned that quick! Not that I'm surprised... - and I'm glad of it. "You heard that?"

I nod, still holding his eyes. I don't have any shields up at all. I rarely use them with him. Seeing as I'd like to belong to him anyway, I don't much see the point. _Look_, I say into his mind, _I always give you all of me. I always have_.

His breath leaves in a rush and I feel his defenses – all those shimmering thought-walls – systematically fail and crumble. "You overwhelm me."

"I'll overwhelm you anytime you want," I tell him with a rogue's grin, "But you still haven't answered my question." I want swift denial from him; I want my best friend to stand up for me, even if he's not ready to be more than a friend.

"I-I don't know, Dee," he says, voice trembling a little. "I-I mean, it's none of my business, really..."

My eyes narrow, my vision darkening. I hate this about him. For all that he can be so strong, so good in a fight, and so dedicated to his job, he still has these moments when he's nothing but quaking fear, refusing to stand up for anything, for us. I can't take this.

"That's too easy!" I cry. "Do you believe it or not, Rhyoh? Give me a goddamn straight answer!"

The peach and lilac parts of his eyes dim and all I see in his gaze is darkness. "I don't know!" he snaps back. "I don't know what you did before we were partners, Dee, and frankly I don't care, either! You can sleep with anyone you want. I _don't care_!!"

Something in me goes cold and still. "But that's the problem," I hear myself saying softly, more to myself than to him. "I can't. You're the only one I want, and I can't stand that you think I'd do wrong by you." I think Rhyoh has brought me close to the edge of crying more times in the past year than anything else has in all the years of my life. Feeling tears edge my eyes again, I turn away from him, aching. "What the hell do I have to do to make you trust me?"

He sighs and reaches out a hand to touch my shoulder. "Dee,"

"No," I say, stopping his nice, reasonable, rational words before they can even start. "You had time for Dragen's story – now you can hear mine."

"A-alright."

"First, Dragen's pissed at me because he wants JJ and he thinks I'm competing with him, which we all know is crazy, except for JJ."

"What? Dragen's,"

"Not gay?" I ask, a little more angrily than I intend to. "Sometimes it's not labels that matter. I don't think Dragen's real concerned about JJ's gender – he just likes the way he makes him feel, the way he treats him. You should try it sometime."

"Dee!"

I ignore him. "Past that, I'm bi. That opens you up to a lot of comments, y'know? People just assume you'll sleep with anything, because, hell, you can't even stick with one gender – not that it's any of their goddamn business anyway. Rhyoh, the guys at this station have been on my case since I got here. It was easy for me to play along, to let them think I was getting some every night while Dragen and Tieg whined about never being able to get a date. It was fun." I'm sure just what he thinks about my definition of fun; he's always calling me juvenile, immature. "If I tell you right now, out in the open, that I haven't wanted to be with anyone since I met you, would you believe me?" I know I'm risking a lot, putting a lot on the line, but hearing him say he doesn't care what I do... it hurts. I want him to care. "I've been alone since the day you transferred here." My voice breaks a little. "I go home after work and I go to bed alone, or I walk around the city until I'm too damn tired to think of you, so I can actually get some real sleep. Now, who are you going to trust? A station full of gossips or your soulmate, the man who loves you?"

With a strangled cry, he's up and out of his seat, and out of our office entirely. I finish out the rest of a six hour shift alone, feeling like something deep inside of me is broken. How long does he think he can keep doing this to me? Showing me kindness and warmth and then running, shoving me away? What am I supposed to think? What am I supposed to do? I've given him everything I have, everything I am. Why isn't that enough?

**DEE –**** later in the week**

It's strange how the many blow-ups we've had don't really strain mine and Rhyoh's relationship that much. I think it's because I always back down. He doesn't want to admit that I'm not the whore of 13-&-6? Fine. I'll just keep sleeping alone and trying to prove it to him. He doesn't want to be my soulmate (which he is, whether he wants it or not)? Fine. I'll just fucking suffer. So here we are, friends again, despite the fact that he ran out on me (and on work – which shows you that he was mega-upset) just a few days ago. At least this last case finished up clean. The bad guys are being held by the city, the streets are safe again, and justice is served. These are the kind of cases I like – black and white, cut clean down the middle, no compromising. I don't like the bargains made within our legal system, or seeing some scumbag brought in _after_ he's ended the lives of three or four poor young girls. His capture always comforts the families of the lost ones a little – but for me it never feels like enough.

Rhyoh slips the last of his reports into a file folder as I stand to gather my mess and clutter to leave. "You want to stay at my place tonight?" he asks. "We could grab lunch or something before we come in tomorrow."

It's his form of a peace offering, I know. He's been waiting, wanting some sign from me that things are okay. It's childish of me not to just give in, but I'd think that the fact that I'm not acting strangely would be sign enough. "Sure."

We step out into the near-darkness together. The city's never fully dark – the lights and the glitter of glass and white alien stone see to that – but our shadows stretch across the surprisingly quiet streets. Sometimes I imagine the city as a huge animal with a pelt made out of light. Right now it's resting, breathing in deep, and readying itself for another night of battle and sex – another night of survival. The rush and hum of the wind in the city's canyons and the migration patterns of its traffic comfort me. I like to think that no matter what happens to me, the rhythm of the streets would be undisturbed. It's eternal, like. Listening for the pulse of my home coming up through the soles of my feet – sole to soul – I follow Rhyoh home in silence. I wonder why he didn't bring the car, getting off late like this, but then I guess he's safe enough, being a Keeper and all.

"Want to go up on the roof?" he asks as we near his building. "I'd like to look at the stars." That surprises me, but I nod. We don't have to be up early tomorrow anyway. "Go on ahead up," he tells me as we're waved inside by the doorman. "I'll be up in a sec."

Climbing a steep, near-endless stairway is not usually the first thing I want to do when I get off of work, but as I step onto the roof, I decide the climb was worth it. We've had unseasonably warm weather lately and I'm perfectly snug in my jacket, despite the occasional pocket of snow lingering in the corners of the roof. The stars are so clear that they're dazzling and I have to tip an imaginary hat at the city's pollution monitors for preserving this view even in the middle of a bustling city crammed full of factories. My breath makes faint wisps in the air, barely visible, as I lean into the wind and look down on my home.

Rhyoh appears then with a heavy blanket and a bottle of wine. I try not to think mischievous thoughts as he spreads the blanket on the cold ground. "Want to sit with me?" he asks. My legs carry me over before my mind's finished processing the question. I wonder if he knows how helpless I become whenever he asks me for something, anything. If I told him, he probably wouldn't believe it, since I never do the work he asks me to do. That's different, though.

"Stars are beautiful tonight," he murmurs. "I always mean to come out here, but I never do."

I'm focused more on the city below and on my role in it. "Why'd you become a Keeper, Rhyoh?"

The question clearly startles him, like I've hit a nerve. Something passes over his face – pain, maybe? Old grief – but it's gone before I can place it. "It's huge, the galaxy," he says, gesturing at the sky. "But we can make it better, a tiny part of it. Our streets." He smiles at me and I feel like I'm floating away. His gentleness and optimism always charm me. "I wanted to make things better. That's why I became a Keeper. What about you, Dee?"

I didn't expect him to turn the question on me. "Uhmm..." I think of Mother telling me that it was a Keeper who found me and brought me to the orphanage. I remember meeting that same Keeper – Jace Alberich – when I went to the Academy at fifteen. I remember him dying in my arms. "I-I guess sorta for the same reasons," I say, fumbling. "Make things better, help people out."

His eyes are piercing, and he gently shakes his head. "I think there's more to it than that."

I take a large swallow of the wine, trying to think of what I'm going to say. He'll laugh if I tell him the truth. Reaching over, he takes my hand and folds it inside of his smaller grasp._ Don't be afraid_, his eyes seem to say. "You've told me lots of other things, Dee. Why not this?" It's hard to think with his hand warm in mine, his skin against mine. We're sitting side by side and his leg is up against me. Hell, I could even put my arm around him.

He's right, I have told him a lot of things. I don't know what it is about him that makes him so easy to open up to. I've never met anyone else like him. When I'm around him, all of my defenses just crumble in the air and I'm just myself, just Dee Lyghtner. Of course, this vulnerability isn't always a good thing, either. If I didn't open up to him so much he wouldn't shoot me down so much, wouldn't break my heart every few weeks just like clockwork. His shields so low-level as to be barely perceptible, he's found his way inside of my head.

"I'm sorry," he answers my thoughts. "I know it's probably hard for you to believe, but I don't mean to keep doing that to you. It's hard for me to care about you, Dee,_" It goes against everything I thought I was, everything I've ever been taught,_ "But I do care." He kisses me softly on top of the head, his breath whispering and warm through the black and purple mess of my hair.

Now I'm _really _having a hard time – breathing as well as talking. Whenever he opens up to me, it always catches me off-guard, sends me to my knees. And even though I want more than care – I want love and commitment and forever – I find that I can't speak, even to ask for more. "You're right," I say at last.

"Huh?"

"You're right," I repeat. "About the Keeper thing. You've got me. I'm not all 'serve and protect', okay?" I blow out a harsh breath, about to reveal something that I've never told anyone, that I barely admit to myself. "I entered into this because I thought I'd find my mom. Keeper's have immaculate records; we 'keep' everything, y'know? Stupid, huh? Whole galaxies, but I thought that I'd recognize her somehow. Ask her why I wasn't worth keeping."

We sit in frozen silence under winter stars for a moment before he pulls me close to him and kisses me, hard and fierce and sudden, as if to imprint my worth through his mouth and his touch. His lips are burning against mine and I feel my body temperature go up at least twenty degrees. "Dee," he murmurs my name against my mouth, then lowers his head to kiss my neck. His shields drop and I feel a sense of sweet acceptance, of _home, _flooding through me. At least for tonight, I have somewhere I belong.

**RHYOH –**** two days later**

I'm humming a little as I enter the office, eager for the sight of my partner. Despite Bikky's protests, Dee's been staying over a lot lately, and though I never let him go as far as he wants to go (or even close, for that matter) I've been glad to have him at my side. When he said all of those things in our office, it felt like he was reaching inside of me and twisting me all around. It was too much, too fast. I'm still uncertain even now, still trying to find my footing. Some part of me still knows that being with another man is wrong, but it's hard to deny the effect he has on me. And on the roof the other night, _I _kissed him! I couldn't help it. Him sitting there, hurting, thinking no one's ever wanted him, it just broke my heart. It scares me to want him, it's true, but I can't seem to get enough of being around him. At least now I understand those wounded looks of his a little better. All this time, he's been carrying the weight of being abandoned, of having no family. No wonder he closes himself off sometimes, acts so tough. He's been hurt too often.

But for all that, he can be one of the most lighthearted people I know. After coming in off of the cold roof, we made hot chocolate and roasted marshmallows on the gas heat of the stove. I'd never do something like that by myself, but with Dee it was completely okay. Then we slept together on the pull out couch, watching old movies. Funny thing about Dee, he knows all the classic movies. I mean _knows _them, like he can quote them and everything. He joined in with different scenes that night and had me rolling on the floor. He could have been an actor – talented and handsome, too. I flush a little. I catch myself off-guard sometimes with thoughts of him. I've never felt that way about any other man – but with him it just comes naturally. He told me trivia about all the different films too, about the actors. When I told him that Gary Cooper reminded me of him, he just beamed.

"Hundreds of years buried on the home planet, but the stars still live on," he said. "I'd think that living on the screen would be a nice kind of immortality."

The next morning he dragged me off to breakfast before my eyes were even open – ordering for me. I thought about arguing with him, but after my first bite of the cinnamon, honey, cherry, almond, and cake concoction, all I could do was moan happily that the thing was in my mouth. I always eat terribly when I'm with Dee – but it does _taste _good.

After breakfast, we picked up Biks and Cal from school (Dee talked me into letting them have a hooky day) and we all went to the arcade together. Between the four of us, we got enough tickets to get Cal a ridiculous stuffed animal that she had her heart set on – and she kissed all of us on the cheek. I think Bikky blushed for twenty solid minutes (Dee teased him the whole time). Dee kicked my butt at air hockey half a dozen times. I always forget how _long _he is! The puck would be in the middle and it would look like there was just no way that he could ever reach it – then zap! He'd score again, just like that.

One thing's for certain, my life's been a lot happier and richer since my mismatched and unlikely family came into it. "Huh," I say to myself. Dee's not at his desk and I know it's way too early for him to be out hunting for caffeine or nicotine – unless he had a run-in with Rothschild that is. I poke my head out of the office, seeing JJ's brilliant orange head passing by.

"Hey, JJ – have you seen Dee?" I swear that he has some kind of radar where my partner is concerned, and though I'm not his biggest fan, I don't mind using his abilities to my advantage. From the brief scowl I get, I deduct that JJ's not my biggest fan, either – which makes sense. Hey, I never _tried_ to get Dee's attention – and he doesn't belong to JJ anyway.

"He's running all over the building," JJ tells me, on top of all-things-Dee as always. "He lost his necklace and it's driving him crazy."

"The purple ring?" I guess. Dee seems unnaturally attached to it, though I've never understood why.

JJ shakes his head. "No. This one is a piece of glass hung on a black thong. You've probably seen it."

"Uh-huh." I have, but it doesn't seem special or fancy or anything. "Why's he so worked up? It's just a piece of glass, isn't it?"

JJ's eyes widen at me. "What, you don't know?"

"Know what?" Leave it to JJ to know more about my partner than me. He's rarely ever in the same room with Dee (at Dee's insistence) but I'm sure he knows his shoe size, his favorite color, and how he takes his eggs.

JJ leans close to me, conspiratorially. "It's not just glass. There's a tiny hologram on it, about the size of a grain of sand." He scowls again, an expression totally out of place on his normally warm and open face. "Your picture is on it."

The room spins away from me; I feel dizzy, unstable. It's one thing for me to be considering having feelings for my partner (emphasis on considering) – it's a whole different story for the entire station to be monitoring us.

"Rhyoh? Rhyoh, you okay?" JJ may not like me, but it's nice to know that he won't let me pass out cold.

"Sure," I say at last. "I-uh-er... how do you know about the necklace?"

He raises an eyebrow at me, clearly suspicious. "You didn't give it to him, did you? I thought you weren't interested."

"I didn't give it to him." I'm not ready to answer the second part yet. Interested? I don't know, the man can talk inside of my head! It's less interested and more enthralled, trapped, addicted. Oh, Dee...

"Oh." JJ seems cheered by my answer. "Well, honestly, saw the packing slip from when it was ordered. I was cleaning up around here and papers from you guys' office got out in the hall." I want to believe him, but I doubt JJ's beyond going through Dee's trash. Of course, Dee's apparently not beyond taking my picture without my knowledge, either. "I don't think anyone else knows about it," JJ continues.

"Where'd he get the picture?" I wonder out loud.

JJ shrugs. "Probably your file."

"That's supposed to be closed."

He shrugs again. "Dee's good at stealing keys. If he wanted in it, he'd get in it." Then Dragen's calling for him and JJ's gone and I'm left standing. Suddenly, I remember a fight I had with Dee awhile back. The real reason for the fight was because I'd just read up on lifebonds and I wasn't real comfortable about being bound to another man without so much as a by-your-leave. I'm still not, for that matter. My stance on lifebonds changes day to day. Some days it seems impossible to deny the connection between myself and Dee and other days I just can't believe in some cosmic force yoking souls together without the consent of the two parties, regardless of gender or race or age, or even inclination. Anyway, one of the things I yelled at Dee for during the fight was getting into my file without my permission. He used Gwen, the Commander's secretary, to do it. Gwen badmouths Dee to the sky, but she'd do anything for him. He's like a beloved black sheep nephew to her. Maybe when Dee asked her to get into the file, he asked for more than the name of my home planet. There are pictures in our files, after all. The fact that he'd take them both unsettles and intrigues me. If he did, it makes him almost a stalker, doesn't it? On the other hand, I've never had someone obsessed with me before, or even deeply interested (discounting the Lt. Commander) and I find that I kind of, sort of, secretly... like it.

Dee enters in that moment, smiling, necklace restored. "Ready to get to work, partner?"

Caught in a flurry of emotions, I can't help but answer his smile with one of my own. "Let's go."

**RHYOH – next week**

Since JJ told me about the necklace Dee wears, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I keep wondering if he has other pictures, if he really kept the others from the file. And did Gwen give him the whole file? Does he know about what happened to me at the river? He's never given any sign, but I know that, for all his honesty, Dee's good at keeping things below the surface when he wants to. So here I am, standing outside of his apartment with the key he gave me sometime back - "for emergencies." I smile to think what Dee would consider an emergency, and sink the key into the lock.

I know he won't be home. Dee's in the justice halls all day, testifying concerning different cases we've worked on. You'd think that his temper and his unrefined way of speaking would make him an unlikely candidate for such a job, but he always does well. He considers it an honor to represent the other Keepers, I think, and it makes him feel good to be called on by the Commander.

I pause in Dee's doorway, knowing I should just turn around and leave. I've never made love to him (except for that one time, and that was different), I've never even said we could date – I have absolutely no right to go through his apartment in his absence. What I'm doing is strictly wrong, but I can't help it. I have to know.

The smell of his apartment soothes me: nicotine and brown vanilla, quick burning gasoline tempered with some organic smell, like forest earth. Since last I visited, he's expanded his collection of different colored ferns. Several thick, leafy plants now occupy the main window ledge. He says Ma'at likes to fly through the fronds, and sure enough, she comes flying out of the red Japanese fern (I got him that one) to greet me, chittering in her own musical tongue.

"Hey, sweety," I say, letting her alight on my wrist. Stroking her soft purple head, I look into her deep, dark eyes. She has a peaceful and intelligent gaze and I think that the space between her ears must be a happy one – full of sweet fruits to eat, blue and green and orange ferns to rest in, and vast rooms to roam, feeling the air through her wings. She flaps around me for a few moments, searching to see if I've brought her a snack before winging back toward the plants.

Feeling my resolve wilting, I sit down in Dee's much-battered favorite red chair, and throw my feet up onto the small ottoman. I can't do this to him. Even if he has the pictures, what kind of person am I if I come snooping for them? What kind of person does that to his best friend? What's gotten into me? I don't need to see a stack of photographs to know how Dee feels about me. He's told me often enough. As I go to stand up and leave, half-chuckling at myself for being so ridiculous, I knock the "lid" off of the ottoman. And there they are – the very photos I came to find.

I'm trembling as I go to my knees, fingers shaking as I lift each sheet up. The ones from my file are on top – the basic profile shots that every Keeper has to submit to for security clearances. But beneath them are others in black and white. Did he hire someone to take them? Did he take them himself? Cameras are so tiny now... I wish the windows were open. I can't breathe. Disgust sweeps through me. How could he do this to me? I feel violated... even dirty. And it's my own fault. I came here for this. I can't even yell at him without admitting that I'm just as bad as he is. Fuck.  
One of the pictures is creased at the corners, as if it's been handled more than the others. Black and white, it's a shot of my face. I'm not looking at the camera, but slightly away and beyond and in the dark spaces of my eyes, he's reflected. He must have taken it. I wonder if it was hard for him to do, hard to admit that he needed this print. All he's ever wanted is me, and all I've left him with are pictures, memories.

I imagine him sitting here like this, kneeling, reverent, (Dee understands reverence in a way I never have, maybe because he was brought up beside a Church) holding this picture, wishing to be more than a reflection, wishing that I'd really look at him. Really see him. How many times has he told me that I don't really see him? Don't see what he's offering? _Oh, Dee... _

I set the pictures aside and continue my investigation, a Keeper to the last. Besides the handful of photographs, there's a journal. Dee always says he hates to read, so I find it hard to imagine him writing. As much as I want to, I don't open it. I've already trespassed too much.

There's also a thin datastick – the kind used to hold voice recordings. I can't imagine what he'd record. After a few seconds of listening I recognize my voice – snippets from messages left on his answering machine, mostly his name. There's a piece of tape across the datastick. In his scrawl, I read the words "To sleep." I remember him saying _"...or walk around the city at night until I'm too tired to think of you, so I can get some real sleep." _Do thoughts of me keep him up at night, just as thoughts of him keep me awake? That's another reason I like having him over – I just sleep better. My voice saying his name helps him get to sleep? Through my anger and disgust, I can't help but feel something else, something stronger: a terrible, terrible regret that I can't let go of my fears and give him what he so obviously needs. I replace the contents of the ottoman and leave his apartment, head bowed. If I was braver, I would have recorded my own message on the datastick; I would have confessed.

**DEE **

My head feels like some circus elephants used it as a balancing ball. My eyes are bleary and my nose won't stop running. Every step toward the station feels like it takes twenty minutes, and I'm shivering in its controlled climate. Why do we keep it so fucking cold in here? Maybe it's the Commander – he's like half-walrus, so he's all insulated against hypothermia. Unlike his poor Keepers.

"Haatchhoo!" The next sneeze will probably propel my head across the room. I can't help hoping that it will land me on Rothschild's desk. Tee-hee. I could freak him out even in death.

"Morning, Dee!" My bluebird-chipper partner claps me on the back... and sends me crashing to the ground. Woah, vertigo... He's kneeling beside me in an instant. "I'm sorry, Dee! I didn't realize that I hit you that hard! You okay?" He rests his hand on my head, looking for a concussion, I think, then brushes my hair back from my forehead. "Dee, you're burning up!"

"Huh?"

"You're sick, Dee."

I try to shake my head at him, but it's _so_ heavy. "Impossible. Healers don't get sick," I grumble. Still, that would explain the goo dripping out of my nose at random intervals, and the scratchiness of my throat. I haven't been sick for like twenty years, why today, why now? I suddenly understand the huge pharmacy aisles in grocery stores. If this is sick, then sick sucks. I feel like I'm going to die. I'm too young to be worm food!

Rhyoh helps me to my feet. "Why don't you take the day off, Dee? I'll talk to the Commander. Go to the medics, okay?"

I don't have it in me to argue with him; I just stagger away, feeling his eyes on my back. Of course, to make sick suck even worse, I run into friggin' JJ. Halfway through his romantic babblings, I grab him by the neck and shut off the passage of air to his lungs. "Hey, Dragen, watch this for me, will you?" I call to the other Keeper before slinging JJ his way. Maybe he'll take the hint. I'd rather strangle JJ than kiss him – that should say something.

**RHYOH**

"Went home sick?" the Commander asks, when I tell him about Dee. "He's not supposed to be here anyway."

"Huh? I thought he was on the schedule."

He takes a long swig of coffee. "He_ was, _but we got called out last night because the local officials couldn't find this lady's two missing kids. They were afraid their disappearances might be linked to one of the rings we're investigating, and the lady was uptown anyway – and panicking. So Dee and Tieg and I teamed up with the locals. Dee found the kids first. They'd just wandered away from the mom, like kids do, and gotten lost. But since they'd been out all night in the cold, they were well on their way to pneumonia, especially the little four year old girl. Dee healed them both. It took a lot out of him – kids can be more resistant to healing than adults sometimes. He stayed with them almost all night to make sure they'd be okay."

Dee, my Dee, who hates kids. I shake my head. He can be completely unbelievable sometimes. "So that's why he's sick today," I realize out loud.

"Uh-huh. He won't be as bad off as them, but he'll surely be fighting off the flu, anyway. I told him he wouldn't be up for work today. I must say, Randor, you've turned him around. He almost never misses now, and he's not late half as often as he used to be. I guess your partnership turned out well after all."

I smile, on my way out of the office. "Yes, sir. It really did."

**DEE**

When did the landlord replace my door with titanium? Surely, I'm not that weak! Finally, it gives, and I stagger into the hall. Before I'm even halfway to the kitchen, I find myself sprawled out on the floor on my stomach. I'm so cold, and I can't reach any of the damn blankets. Ma'at squeaks at me a little bit, but doesn't leave her palace of ferns. Stupid winged mouse. Some help she is – a regular Lassie.

Not that anyone else is getting a gold star in the help-Dee-in-his-moment-of-need department. How about my friggin' partner, huh? He couldn't have at least driven me home? What does it take to get a speck of sympathy out of that man, anyway?

I don't know how long I drift in and out of sleeping on the floor, but when I wake up, I still feel like death. Feeling cold, alone, and miserable, I rest my head on my hands and speak into the emptiness of my apartment. "He still doesn't know I'm head over heels for him." I sigh, and shuddering takes me. Sure, at first, I was just playing with him a little because he was so uptight. I didn't really believe in the bond, not then. "But pretty soon, without even realizing that I was doing it, I began to pray he'd stay close to me forever." You could start a decent size bonfire with the amount of candles I've lit to St. Jude and St. Valentine together. Usually, I'm not the praying kind, but with Rhyoh I always end up down here, right down on my knees. It gets so hard to cling to hope, to keep hoping that he might, someday, come to care for me. Give him time, Mother told me, but each day is one more day without him – one more day of my life cut off from the one person I want. What if all I'm holding onto is a ghost of a chance?

"I want to be with him. I want to walk with him every step of the way." I sigh again, my throat aching with unshed tears. "But I want him to want me." And I'm so afraid that he never will... "Goddamnit, I'm such a hopeless romantic!" I'm getting all teary-eyed thinking about him.

"Who's hopeless?" asks that voice that I've loved so long. For a minute I think I'm hallucinating, but those are definitely his shoes.

He kneels down in front of me. "What are you doing down here? You're sick and you should be in bed. Plus, you left your door unlocked." I'm sure he loves chiding me for that one – I yell at him about it all the time.

"I fell," I tell him as he helps me up.

"I heard about what you did last night," he tells me, helping me to the bed. "The mother dropped by the station to say 'thank you.' You're way beyond sweet, sometimes, you know that?"

"What was I supposed to do with them? Let them get pneumonia?" I've never been very good at taking a compliment. He chuckles and helps me into bed. Moments later, sleep has pulled me down into a world of darkness.

I wake up sometime later to Rhyoh pressing a warm compress against my forehead. It smells faintly medicinal, like herbs.

"Did I wake you?" he asks, tugging the covers up around me. "Are you cold? I turned up the heat just in case."

"When I was a kid," I say softly.

He leans in closer. "What?"

"When I was younger, I got so sick that I almost died. Mother had to sit and take care of me for three days straight. Her hands were so warm... I knew even then that that was strange, because I was fevered. I had to be warmer than she was."

He must think I'm babbling, because he hushes me. "Get some rest, Dee." Then he leans down, and softly, sweetly, kisses me. It's the best medicine I've ever tasted. "Goodnight."

"You're going to get sick now, too," I tell him.

"You can come take care of me," he says, with just a hint of playfulness. Hmm... healer and patient fantasies, anyone? He shifts the compress against my forehead. "But for tonight, I'll stay here and take care of you, okay?"

"Hey," I say, eyes closed. "Your kiss is pretty warm. Hell, I'd even say it was hot."

**RHYOH**

A few moments later, Dee's even breathing tells me he's asleep. Maybe he hears me, though, when I tell him that I think he's hot too. Maybe he already knows.


	7. Chapter 7

HeartShy

By: SinnamonGirl

Disclaimer: Fake belongs to Sanami Matoh.

All songs alluded to belong to their respective artists.

Bikky's platinum head was turned away from the front of the classroom, eyes focused on the distant beautiful day going to waste beyond the windowpanes. In his opinion, classrooms shouldn't even have windows; all they did was remind you of what you were missing out on. Instead, they should be designed like the dungeons they were – complete with metal bars on the doors and windows.

"Hey Bikky, guess what?" a voice asked beyond his shoulder.

The dark-skinned alien boy smirked to himself, smug in his knowledge. "I don't have to guess. I already know. Miss Erin is on maternity leave."

Just as one of his friends began to whine about the fact that he'd never get to go out with her now (Bikky thought of another hopeless cause, closer to home: the perv – Rhyoh was as out of reach to him as Miss Erin was to a seventh grader) the principal walked in. "Attention, guys. Listen up. Some of you might be wondering why I'm here and not Miss Erin,"

She was interrupted almost immediately by cries of, "She's pregnant!" At thirteen, pregnancy still had a hint of the forbidden, of scandal, to it because of its link to sex. Because of that, they couldn't get enough of talking about it.

"Oh my, I guess some of you know already, huh? Well, then I guess I'll just introduce your substitute teacher. Class, this is Miss Jane Hail."

A delicate blond haired woman made her way to the front of the classroom. She looked small enough to sit in the child-sized desks. "Hello, everyone. I'm Miss Hail, and I'm very glad to meet all of you." She placed a large white vase on the edge of her desk. "On that note, I've brought you some flowers." The plants were exotic things of all colors. Some of the flowers looked more like fine, gossamer cloth, while others had thick, waxy petals. Bikky thought that Ma'at would have liked her shot at the nectar inside of them. In his mind, the gesture was a waste, however. He was already bored (and he figured most of his classmates felt the same) and the expensive arrangement would be dead in a few days.

Then again, maybe he was just irritated because Dee had been bringing flowers to Rhyoh lately. Seriously, did the perv think a few chopped-up plants were going to make Rhyoh give in? Furthermore, Rhyoh was a _man_, a Keeper, for godsakes! Sure, he was gentle enough – _a lot _gentler than either Bikky's father or Am had been – and he did know girly things like how to decorate and cook – but still! Flowers were just out of the question.

Miss Hail just smiled. "This is my gift, to you."

At that moment, a distant thunder sounded in a series of thick, hearty booms. Jane Hail looked around confusedly, blue eyes peering out from behind delicate tortoise shell glasses. "What was that?"

The principal didn't seem to know what to do next. Her largest daily struggles usually involved securing the grants and funds to keep the school running, or overseeing discipline problems. "It-it sounds like something blew up," she said quietly.

Jane Hail was already at the windows. "I hate to agree with you, but there's smoke coming from the recreation center."

"Everyone in your seats and stay still!" the principal cried as children began to head for the windows for a better look.

She was too late for Bikky, however. He was already balanced on the window ledge, measuring the distance to the ground with his eyes. If he made it in one piece, he'd be the first on the scene. He knew that would make Rhyoh proud! Of course, he might also end up with a broken leg... Well, the perv would be around. He could heal it up in a jiffy.

"Geronimo!"

He was on the ground and running in an instant, the school and his friends' gaping faces receding behind him.

**DEE**

Work by itself I can handle. Sure, sometimes I feel like I have to get up way too early (like, before noon) but they pay me for my time, and I enjoy being a Keeper, for the most part. Meetings, though, are something different. You don't get paid for one, and they're usually a massive waste of time. But when the Lt. Commander tried to blow off the meeting that _he_ had called and _we_ had been forced to stay over for, I was pissed.

"Wait just a goddamn minute!" I shouldn't swear so much around Rothschild, but the sight of him just hurts my eyes, brings poison out in my veins. I guess swearing's better than punching... "You can't just assemble us and then run out!"

Tieg backs me up. "Yeah. No fair, Commander!"

Rothschild is completely unruffled, as usual. As far as he's concerned, we're just low bred dogs snapping and snarling around his heels. Him? Oh, he's the hunter, of course – getting all the glory, making success possible, being the hero. In his eyes, we aren't even people – just tools for getting the job done. I'm not all about being a happy little worker ant, thanks.

"Well the only faces I see are the ones from investigations," he says. His eyes shift over to me. "And they're mostly the ones I can't stand, to boot."

"Feeling's mutual," I growl, doing little to unsettle his image of me as a beast. Fuck him – I don't need him to think well of me anyway.

"Actually, Commander, I've talked to the departments that couldn't be here. I've got suggestions from equipment, vehicle reg. and magic monitoring."

Okay, Rhyoh does make a nice little worker ant. I can't believe he was nice enough to go around to the other departments to make sure they'd be represented. He's too nice for his own good, I swear. Doesn't he realize that people will walk on him for it? His kindness is just one of the things that makes me love him... but he makes such an easy mark that way.

Allend's eyes are glittering, and I can't but think of snakes. His voice takes on a smug, self-satisfying tone. "Well, then I guess the only one I need to talk to is you, isn't it?" He grabs my partner's arm, preparing to haul him off. "Why don't we move this discussion to my office?"

My hand slams down between them, freeing Rhyoh from his coils. My eyes bore into the Commander's. "Personally, I'd much rather discuss our work conditions here, _sir_."

He lowers his face, matching me glare for glare. "You know," he says, all cold and quiet, "I'm really not a very big fan of your sorry ass attitude." But he lets it go at that, taking a seat. "All right. What is it you'd all like to tell me?"

Dragen goes first, optimistic as always. "I'd like to see us get paid more. Our wages suck."

"Get more education, get promoted, or write to your city representative," Allend replies. "Next?"

"I'd like to see us get better vehicles," says Tieg. "Something hot – not these clunkers we have."

"Next."

"I'd like to work with Dee," JJ chirps.

"Hmm, I'll consider that one."

My eyes bug out; he can't hate me _that_ much! "Hey!"

"Next," he says sweetly.

"Fine," I say, knowing that anything I say will be shot down on principle if nothing else. "I'd like to see lasers made available to all of us at the station."

Rothschild looks at me strangely. "They've been available since before I got here."

"It's just you, Dee," Dragen tells me. "You didn't know?"

"Yeah," JJ chimes in. "You were destroying too much property."

Whose side are these guys on, anyway? "It's brutal out there! A Keeper's got to be able to protect himself!"

Rothschild just smiles. "I suggest you learn to love your current weapons until you learn some restraint, Lyghtner."

"Actually Commander, I think it would be a good idea to let him carry at least one. We're in a high crime area and it can get pretty bad out there."

My heart swells with love for my partner (in addition to the love I feel for him every day) as he turns and gives me a quick wink. It's so nice to see him standing up for me for a change! Maybe he even appreciated it that I just saved him from becoming Rothschild's love slave. Of course, said Commander is still giving him that sinister smile of his, all designs and innuendo. "If you think so, Randor, I'll allow it."

I turn to Tieg. "Did that, by any chance, piss you off half as much as it did me?"

"I'm with you, man. What a creepy smile." He mock-shudders. "Poor Rhyoh – he's got you and the Commander to deal with."

I bop him in the back of the head.

As the meeting continues, Rothschild continues to play favorites – listening to Rhyoh's suggestions and ignoring everyone else. He even compares us to a room full of bees! Thankfully, our torture is cut short by real work – an explosion at the center school.

**RHYOH**

My heart's been in my mouth since the meeting ended – and not just because of Dee's driving. "Explosion at the center school..." The words keep playing over and over in my mind. I'm cursing myself for not getting Bikky a wristband so I could at least call ahead and make sure he's all right. Kids are supposed to be safe at school!

Dee's large hand is warm on my thigh. "Quit worrying," he says soothingly, lips closed on a cigarette.

"I have shields up!" I snap, glad for an outlet for my stress.

He smiles at me, unoffended. "I don't need to read your mind to tell what you're thinking about. I'm sure that Bikky's fine. And hey, before I forget, thanks for taking up for me with Rothschild."

It was a small thing; I'm surprised he'd mention it. "No problem. I should have done the same thing with Dragen, before." I think of the Commander wanting to speak to just me, alone. "Thanks for keeping the meeting public. I know you didn't want to be there."

"In a room with JJ _and_ the Lt. Commander? No. But I sure didn't want you alone with him, either. Nothing there but bad intentions, babe."

Usually, I'd yell at him for calling me that, but I sort of like it when he puts himself between me and danger, when he protects me. Not that I couldn't fend off Rothschild, but it's nice not having to. "Unlike you, huh?" I tease him.

His fingers tease along the inside of my leg. "Of course. My intentions are nothing but _good_." I can't believe he can act like this on the way to a bombing. The teasing leaves his voice and he becomes serious. "I want to give you everything, you know that, don't you, Rhyoh?" He doesn't give me time to answer. "I'm _not _like Rothschild. I care about you, for real."

I swallow a few times, trying to get my voice, but before I can answer him – his wide, searching eyes, so hopeful – we're on-scene. I clasp his fingers in mine for a moment, hoping he'll know from my touch that I understand.

"You're _sure _that this one here was the first one to arrive on the crime scene?" Dee's asking a doll-like blond woman who must be Bikky's teacher. Bikky is grinning back at Dee – eyes bright and mischievous. Between the two of them, I do nothing but worry.

Dee's on Bikky's case now – and I don't think it's just because he's up to his usual pretense of annoyance at Bikky's presence. "How'd you get here first, huh? Your classroom's way back there." Dee's picked Bikky up from school for me before when I've been pressed for time. Of course, they'd always stop somewhere to eat on the way back and ruin their appetites with pretzels or nachos or ice cream. I never really thought about it, but for just being my work partner, Dee does a lot of stuff that, well, only family would do. Family, or a lover...

"Your classroom is on the second floor, isn't it? You jumped, didn't you!?" Leave it to Dee to know just what Bikky would do; they're a lot alike sometimes.

"No biggie," Biks is saying with a smile.

I grab his collar. "_Huge _biggie," I correct. "You can bet we'll be talking about this later at home." I turn to his teacher, bracing myself for another apology on Bikky's behalf. He's done a lot better at staying out of trouble recently, but he never seems to leave trouble completely behind, either. "I'm very sorry for all the trouble that Bikky has caused."

She just smiles. "That's all right. I think it's good that he has all that energy, don't you?" Sometimes I'm fine with it – like when he's playing basketball. But other images surface quickly in my head: Bikky skating on my hardwood floor, Bikky assaulting poor Dee after third shift (he sort of deserved it), Bikky flying out of some alley, chased by dogs he's tormented – or worse yet – someone he tried to shoplift from. I love the boy more than life itself, but he does wear me out!

**DEE**

The Commander (my _real _boss, not that fashion model Allend) is staring intently at a sample retrieved from the scene – completely riveted. "Something the matter, Commander?"

He seems startled to see me. "No. No, nothing's the matter at all." He hands me the sample. "Will you make sure they run this at the lab, though, Dee?"

"Yes, sir." It's not usually something he'd ask me to do, and I wonder as I walk away: does this small bit of debris mean something to him? Does it hold the clue to who blew up the recreation center?

**RHYOH**

"He was looking at the records of a bomber from when?" he asks me.

"At least ten years ago. I only got a quick look, but I think the perp died back then, too." I had been dropping some files off in the data room when I'd run into the Commander. It's unlike him to take such a dogged interest in a case, even if it does involve a city building and a lot of publicity. I was pretty sure his shift had ended hours ago, and there he was, going through old files.

Dee gratefully accepts the coffee I've poured for him. Recently we've become sort of a two man coffee club. We drink the stuff to stay awake – working odd hours and all three shifts like we do – but the taste kind of gets to you after awhile, so we started buying different kinds of creamers. Dee started it as a joke, picking something called Mocha Dream Cha-ca-locka Chocolate. After all, what the hell _is_ a cha-ca-locka anyway? So now we've gone through most of the flavorings, from Irish Buttercream to Chili Pepper Chocolate and back again. Tonight's flavor is White Chocolate Ganache.

"Well if the dude's dead, what can he possibly have to do with our case?" asks my dark-haired partner. Since he said those things in the car, I haven't been able to take my eyes off of him. It's not that he looks different to me or anything, it's not even the first time he's admitted his feelings to me, but damned if those things he said didn't affect me. "I care about you, for real." I wish I was stronger than I am, strong enough not to care what my aunt and uncle and Bikky and the Commander and the grocery counter worker might think. I'd really like to be in his arms right now, wrong or right.

Pushing my desires away, I answer my partner. "Could be a copycat or the same explosives type." I lower my glasses from my face, tossing the reports aside. The words are all starting to run together anyway.

"I thought of that, but if the Commander says not to worry?" he shrugs.

"I-I suppose you're right," I agree, trying to let go. "But since it happened at Bikky's school, I can't help but stress."

**DEE**

Just like him. To worry something down to the marrow when there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Don't get me wrong, extra hours and extra thought can be the key to some cases – but we just can't do anything else with this one tonight. Witnesses saw nothing but smoke and the lab is still going over what samples we recovered. I turn away from him and light a cigarette and sit smoking in silence.

"What is it?" he asks after a moment. "What's the matter?" Since learning to shield (and he's good at it, damn him) he's been more willing to leave his shields down, knowing he can block me out at a moment's notice. It's nice, to see more of him this way, to be allowed beyond the surface. Of course, it is a two-way street and I'm surprised with how quickly he sensed my change of moods.

"It's nothing big... just, you're just so... empathetic, I guess, is how you'd say it."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he says, gently. "Is it?" He's smiling a small smile and I wish I could just hold him. I wish he wanted me, just a little.

"I guess," I say, surprising myself. "A bit. I mean, when it comes to everyone else, you're always right on the money... but with me... when it comes to me, you never notice a damn thing."

I've startled him; he's wide eyed now. I wish I could make his eyes go wide with a kiss that he actually wanted, with a touch. For all that he's given me – I mean, I'm sitting with him in his apartment right now – I feel so far away from him sometimes. "That's not true," he says.

We'll see about that... I get closer to him. "Do you know anything about the seven deadly sins? Especially the lust one?"

I've been thinking about them a lot lately. I'm not rigid in my beliefs by any means, certainly not orthodox or even doctrinal, but I wonder sometimes about justice and punishment. We see so many people killed, raped, hurt and I wonder sometimes why it has to happen to them. Was it fate that they'd be on that street at that time or was it just bad luck? When I told Mother about Rhyoh, I asked her if she thought God was punishing me by keeping him from me. I still wonder. Do I want him_ too_ much? So much that I'm not allowed to have him? Is it just plain lust that keeps me from having the love I want?

Oblivious, he says, "Sure, I know about them. But what does that have to do with our case?"

I sigh, sad-eyed. "I'm not talking about the case. I'm talking about me." I jerk a thumb in my direction. "Because right now, I'm all about lusting, you know?" Not a pretty speech, I'll admit that myself, but I don't know how else to get through to him. I've told him how much I care about him so many times...

Confusion shows on his face. "Well, you are what you are."

I stand and grab my coat as my heart sinks down into my shoes. "Shot down again. I guess I'll go home and get some sleep."

I hear him calling. "Huh? What? Dee? Wait! Dee!?"

But I'm out the door and into the street. He doesn't follow and I'm not surprised. Damn it Rhyoh... doesn't he know how badly I want him? Does he just not care? He belongs to me. He's mine by right. How can he do this, knowing my soul's caught up in his, knowing I can hardly breath when he's not at my side? What does he think I am? A friggin' saint? Airheaded or not, he must know by now how I feel about him. I made love to him for crying out loud! I just wish... I just wish he'd say how he feels about me.

**RHYOH**

I stare at the closed door for several minutes without moving. I should have gone after him, but he was gone so quickly. I don't know why he left, either. Lust... I wonder what that was about, him bringing up lust all of the sudden? I mean, it's Dee, so lust comes pretty naturally to him, but... Oh my god! Was he talking about _me_!?

I sink into a kitchen chair, head in my hands. Images of my partner assault my mind: the way he looked when he first shook my hand, like I was a long-awaited friend he'd been missing, the way he held me after he rescued me from the bounty hunter, his lean body cutting through the lake on our vacation, his kiss when I was sick...

Lately, he's the only thing in my mind and when I lay down to sleep I play these images of him over and over again, tormenting myself. I watch him in my mind and try to decide – for good – that it's wrong to love him.

Or that I do love him, and only him.

Or... hell, I don't know. I've tried so hard to find the answer, the right answer. I keep pushing him away, but I never shut him down for good. I can't bear to do that, to hurt him that badly.

Sometimes, at night, I get lost in images of him... and I... I want him the way I had him before, after the poison. Wanting him, I touch myself and I imagine it's him. It's not something I'd usually do... I mean, I know it's not dirty or anything, but... I don't know... it's been so long since I was with anyone – touching and being touched. Knowing Dee would give me that in an instant, I can't help but think of him when I'm alone in my bed.

And it feels so good, making love to the ghost of him, feeling his lips and his long, muscled body over mine. For a few minutes, anyway, I forget to be guilty that it's another man I'm imagining. I just see his beautiful green eyes, dark hair falling into him. His long fingers... But just saying it out there in the open – LUST – Dee... he's just so blunt!

"It's not like I don't notice you," I tell my kitchen cabinets. "It's not like that at all. Oh, Dee..."

Bikky staggers into the kitchen, blinking sleepily and startling me almost out of my skin. I hope he hasn't heard me calling Dee's name... "Bikky, what's the matter? Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"The light in the bathroom won't work," he mumbles. "And I gotta pee."

Sheww... I'm glad it's something I can handle in my agitated state! "I'll change the bulb." I fix the light then help a half-sleeping Bikky back to bed. Then I sit up in bed for a long time, wondering what I'm going to tell Dee tomorrow. Sorry? I love you? Nothing? I just don't know.

**DEE**

Yawning, I stride into the station, taking off my coat as I go. "Morning," I mumble at my fellow Keepers.

Dragen grins at me from his desk; I had a talk with him about JJ, and though he denies everything, things between us are back to normal. "Closer to noon, but still early for you, huh?"

"Shut up," I tell him. "I'm on third shift. And I wasn't out all night like you think, either. I wish I was, but I wasn't." Maybe rumors about my promiscuity will die down a little and Rhyoh will start trusting me. Maybe Rothschild will promote me, too. The reason I'm so tired is actually Rhyoh – but most certainly not in the way that I want. We were not up all night in my big, cozy bed, naked and happy. That would just be too damn much to ask for. Instead, I was up all night in bed, burning like I had a fever, wanting him. And nothing I did seemed to help at all – including listening to my oh-so secret voice recordings and a cold shower. So this morning (or afternoon, I guess) I'm exhausted and more than a little sore below the belt. I know, I know... but what's a man do to when the one person who would please him doesn't give a damn about his sleepless nights and chaste-as-a-priest behavior?

Speaking of said person, there's Rhyoh – early as always. I'll bet he got his eight hours. Bastard. "Hey Dee," he begins, but the ringing phone cuts him off.

**RHYOH**

"Hello, Mr. Detective," says a sweet – almost girlish – voice on the other end of the phone. "I'd prefer not to give my name, but I have some information you might be very interested to receive." There's something about the voice that sets off alarm bells in my mind. I motion to Dee to start recording and tracing the call. He gives me a thumbs up, signaling that he's on it.

"I've set up a few explosives around your building," the voice continues. "They'll go off in about ten minutes, give or take, unless you start tampering. Then they'll go in thirty seconds. Good luck getting out. Have a nice day, detective."

All the blood drains from my face and the phone drops to the desk. "Damn it!"

"What's the matter?" Dee asks.

"Well, according to our psychotic anonymous source, there are explosives somewhere in the building. And I don't think she's kidding."

"What!??"

I turn from my partner to Dragen. "Dragen, get on the intercom and tell everyone to evacuate. There's a bomb somewhere inside the building. Tell them to leave everything just like it is and just concentrate on getting out."

Fast-thinking and reliable as always, Dee heads for the stairs. "I'll clear out the basement and the first floors. You want to take two and three?"

"I'm on it. Meet me back here." After seeing him get hurt in the orphanage, I don't want to leave him, but I'm a Keeper first. I fly for the opposite staircase.

**DEE**

Five minutes later, the floors are empty and I'm back beside Rhyoh. "All clear."

"Mine too. Let's get out of here." Sweat shimmers on his cheeks and his shirt is stuck to his back from running.

"Hold up," I say. "I forgot my wallet. Let me go grab it."

"You've only got five minutes!" he says, and I can tell that he's thinking I'm a fool. Well, he can stow it – the only picture I have of Penguin is in there, plus one of him. I open my desk to grab the wallet, and am confronted by a timer – with thirty seconds on it!!! "ACK!!" I snatch the wallet and turn to run all in one motion, with Rhyoh right beside me. The doors seem thousands of miles away and I can't help wondering if I can heal myself if I get blown apart. We burst through the swinging doors and hit the pavement together, hands over our heads. The sound behind us is indescribable and deafening, and heated debris shoots over top of us. As the smoke clears, we get to our knees, the staff of the station staring at us and the remains of our workplace.

"Holy shit!" is all I can manage.

**RHYOH**

I'm very proud of my Keeper's uniform. I worked hard for it and I work hard to keep it. Sometimes I even toy with the idea of being promoted. Then I remember who my partner is... Right this minute, Dee's on his way to disemboweling some fool who parked illegally and is now trying to argue him out of paying the fine. I grab his collar and haul him away from the now-cowering civilian. "That's enough, Dee." Sometimes I swear_ he_ should be the one we're all chasing... he'd make a _much _better criminal than he would a Keeper, and midnight fantasies or not, he's really pissing me off!

"Look," I tell the civilian. "If I were you, I'd take the ticket and run – but that's just me." He snatches for the citation, and he's gone in a puff of smoke. I'm left with Dee, who's grumbling obliviously.

"Man, what a friggin' drag! What am I doing issuing tickets to illegally parked vehicles anyway?"

A vein throbs in my forehead. "You took the words _right out of my mouth_." I smack him in the back of the head, less than gently. "And you know what else I can't believe? That I got stuck working with a loser-reject Keeper who looks like he came straight out of a things-NOT-to-do-on-the-job Academy-issue film!!!"

"Thanks, partner," he says. "Besides, that was a total accident! It wasn't my fault and you know it!"

_THAT _is actually Dee's latest escapade, and the mysterious destruction of Lt. Commander Rothschild's dry cleaning, which somehow got mixed in with the City-issued prison uniforms and shipped off for inmate washing. It returned a week later with a note of apology from the individuals who had picked up the uniforms, and the Lt. Commander was less than pleased. He also knew where to look for a culprit and Dee was demoted for a week, given traffic duty. The fact that I got demoted with him tells you just what kind of mood Rothschild was in... Sure, there was no proof that Dee did it, but everyone knows it had to be him. Why does he have to be so childish all the time!?

"Of course it was your fault!" I snap back at him. "And thanks to another stellar Lyghtner performance, I'm here writing traffic tickets with you on a fast track out of the precinct!"

"Oh, so you're worried how Rothschild will think of you now, huh? It's all okay just as long as you look good to the higher-ups, huh? _I didn't do it!!" _

"Well excuse me for griping, but the amount of paperwork I have to do to cover up your antics keeps escalating. I haven't had one good thing happen to me since I started working with you."

That was over the line and I know it. He looks seriously stung, but ready to fight now, ready to come back with something. But before we can get into it any further, the Commander pulls up, all smiles. "How cute. And just what are you two arguing over now?"

"Commander!" we say together, me saluting, Dee leaning on the windshield to beg.

"Commander," he begins, "my powerful, truth-seeking, detectivey soul is totally wasted in traffic!" Didn't I tell you he'd make a good actor? Dig the propaganda! "Please put me somewhere else! I'm begging you."

"It's your own fault you're here, fool. I don't know why you can't just try to get along with pretty boy Rothschild." Commander's not crazy about Allend either, but you can't blame him. The guy did kind of boot him out of a job and all. "Unfortunately, I can only afford to punish you for so long before returning you to your real cases. The uniform suits you, though, Lyghtner, I will say that." I chuckle a little, but inside I agree. I like the way Dee looks in a uniform... but then, the man would look good in a paper bag... Ack! Must stop thinking these things!

"Why don't you guys head over to the 13-&-2? We'll be basing our ops there until we can get things sorted out about the station. I've got something I need to check up on, but I'll meet you there soon."

In that moment, a voice calls out. "Excuse me, Keepers?"

I recognize her before she reaches us. "Miss Hail, you're Bikky's new teacher."

"Hello. Just a substitute, actually. I couldn't help asking why you were in uniform – I thought you were Keepers."

I can understand her confusion; you wouldn't want fake Keepers investigating an explosion at your workplace either. "We are. We've just been temporarily reassigned." The tactful thing to say would be that the local officials are short so they borrowed us, but I'm still annoyed with Dee. "Because of my partner here."

The Commander gives us another smile and a wave. Miss Hail's eyes follow the car away. "Is he your boss?" she asks, blue eyes wide.

"Commander Russelford? Yeah, he's one of the men we answer to in investigations. He yells a lot, but he's really like a second father to us."

"I see," she says, eyes still looking away.

Telling her to say hello to Biks for me, we make our way down the street in search of... sigh... more illegally parked vehicles.

**DEE**

Despite the bitch-at-Dee fest my partner decided to have today (what was up with him embarrassing me in front of that woman? There was no call for that) I'm still glad he invited me back to his place. No matter what I tell myself, I can't help but feel excited when he turns to me and says, "Hey, Dee, wanna hang out after work?" The sad thing is, he could just as easily ask me to help him de-thorn catuses or paint an accurate star map on the brat's ceiling and I'd probably say yes just as quickly. Even when he's bitchy, I still like to be around him.

I throw myself onto his couch with abandon. "Jeez, I am so ready to crash. How did we end up tidying up another station's files, anyway? And for half the day?"

"Well, we did kind of barge in on them. We have to help somewhere. Besides, better that than traffic."

He hands me a cup of coffee, Chocolate Covered Raspberry creamer being tonight's star of the show. "You still mad at me about that?" I ask him.

"No. The Commander's right, though, Dee. You do need to try to make peace with Rothschild."

I stick my tongue out in a show of disgust. "I didn't do it, though! Maybe he did it himself to get me in trouble."

"You think he'd sink to that, Dee?"

I don't know, but I'm not very objective where he's concerned anyway. I just shrug. He sighs and changes the subject. "Did you hear they might be able to salvage the old station? The Earth-based materials are totally gone, but the alien stone was just smoke-stained. If they replace what got lost, we might have a brand new station by next year."

I nod. "Sounds good, but that's a whole year indebted to the 13-&-2."

"Yeah, I guess we'll just have to wait and see. By the way, do you want to stay tonight?" Boy do my ears perk up at that! "My place is closer to the 13-&-2 than yours."

"Does that mean I've got the go-ahead for what we talked about last time?" I'll ask at least – I'm not totally without decency!

**RHYOH**

"Huh?" He's staring at me again like he does, so intently. Then he's easing the coffee table aside, pushing me down on my back, his arm behind me to brace me. He stares into my eyes as he slowly unzips my shirt... and I... I just don't know what to do. Do I give in to the way I've been feeling at night and kiss him? And let him kiss me? Do I... do I let him make love to me? What do I do? I-I just don't know anymore...

He stretches out over me, straddling my hips. He looks so good in his black tank top – an undershirt really – and tight pants. He's still staring into my eyes, opening my shirt to run his fingers down my chest. I look up at him, hypnotized, unable to move. He turns his eyes, frowning, then sighs. He sinks down over me, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Dee?" What did I do wrong?

"Don't worry," he says sadly. "I'll behave. I'll just stay over so my commute's shorter." I can tell that his eyes are half closed with hurt. I don't understand what I've done, what I should have done. "Even though you don't outright reject me, I'm not dumb," he says softly, one hand on my shoulder. "I-I belong to you, Rhyoh, but you always have this confused, worried, whatever, look on your face. Because of that I-I just can't keep chasing after something I can't get."

"I'm sorry." I tell him, heart breaking in my chest from weakness. _Dee... I want to tell you, but I can't. I can't. _

He's back in his tough mode again. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault." It's how I know how bad he's hurting.

I hold onto him, rubbing his back. "But I am sorry." His hair is soft against my cheek.

"I think I'm going to go off-planet for awhile," he says after a moment. "I've got some vacation time. I think I'll take it. Just go." He doesn't say it, but I know he means, _Go and try to get over you. _I lay silent and hold him for a long time, hurting.

**DEE**

_Against Autumn _is a good ship – clean lines and thick shields, decent gun ports. I know you aren't _supposed _to take near-space fliers into the deep black, but hey, what's the use of knowing a Keeper in air control if you can't get a favor now and then? Landrin waves me right through, totally ignoring the class and weight of my craft. It's three in the morning and he's the only one on duty. He'll just shift the logs a little bit. I'll have to make sure I come back when he's on duty again – assuming my plan works and I can make it back.

I remember sitting in the bar, telling him of my plans, telling him about my reluctant soulmate. "Dee Lyghtner, running away?" he teased, laughing. "Now that's something I never thought to see. You must have it bad, huh?" He was only playing with me, but his words got to me all the same. He's right – I never was one to run, not from anything. Not even from a fight I couldn't win.

Back in the orphanage, a local gang got it in for me. I was tall and thin – not grown into my own bones yet, Mother would say – and I braced myself up against a wall, waiting for them. They had knives and all I had was my fists and my speed. I remember crawling out of the alley, blood trailing behind me. I crawled on my belly and I only knew I was moving because the pavement under my nose kept changing – different bits of glitter would catch the light from the streetlamps.

But Rhyoh... he's different from a fight in the alley where I'm outnumbered six to one. He's something I can't fight against or persuade or win. Nothing I do seems to change the situation for the better for long. I can't make him accept me or accept the bond... and I can't stop trying. The only way out of this pretty little knot is the good old-fashioned Gordian way – cut and run.

New Abode vanishes below me in a shimmer of stardust and ahead the blackness opens like a forbidden door, welcoming me.

**RHYOH**

I jolt out of bed with a start. Cold sweat works its way down my ribcage and my breathing is frantic. _Someone died. Mom? Dad? Gone. Gone for years. This was a different dream. This was about... about... _I reach back through my memories, but the dream is gone and with it the threat of imagined disaster. Still, I get out of bed and make a check around the house. Some magic users claim to be able to sense things before they happen. I'm no magic user – but my mom could do it too, and the dream has shaken me enough to make me cautious.

Bikky's asleep in bed – upside down like he sleeps sometimes – clutter covering his floor. I'll have to tell him to clean up tomorrow – at least make a sweep for garbage and living things that might be feeding off of it. Since I brought Dee the bat, he's been pestering me for some kind of pet. But my work schedule's so irregular, and I don't like to leave Biks at home alone too much. It'd be a hard environment for an animal. Sometimes I think it's not good for Biks either, but I do the best I can. Seeing him shift in his sleep, I hastily close the door.

I rustle through the kitchen cabinets, looking for something. Coffee would obviously be a mistake. It's a weekend, but I never know when I might get called in, and Bikky will probably want to do something tomorrow – catch a game (I'd rather Dee take him than me) or go to the park at least. My thoughts get stuck and I'm staring into the cabinet, not seeing anything. Then it strikes me, all at once. Dee's gone. Into space. To forget about me. He's giving up on me. I sink to the floor with a packet of hot chocolate mix in one hand. No one else ever brought me to my knees like Dee does. He'd laugh if I told him that, say there's plenty of fun activities to do one one's knees. He's like that – a horndog to the core. I wonder what it will be like to have that attention directed elsewhere. I wonder if he'll start dating. I wonder, most of all, why the idea of him with someone else bothers me so much. If I'm not gay, if I don't love him, then why am I sitting on my floor, shaking with something so close to grief that I can't distinguish between the two? Why?

Shaking myself a little, I get to my feet to start making the cocoa. It'll be nice, I try to tell myself, to not have to worry about him pouncing me all the time. But a Dee who doesn't act like a psychotic jungle cat? I probably won't know how to react. Some part of me will miss it, too.

Dammit! Why can't I just tell him how I feel? Why can't I kiss him back or say that yes, I have been wanting him? What's wrong with that? Dragen wants JJ and I've never heard anyone say anything bad about him. Or what about JJ for that matter? I mean, he has_ way _ too much energy and can be a little stalkerish where Dee's concerned – but people are always praising JJ. Can you be a good person and still want another man? The rational part of me says "of course!" I deal with same-sex couples all the time on cases. Just the other week, Dee and I were called in because two women were missing their daughter (she was just playing her own version of hide-and-seek, luckily). They were married. Dee's right – it isn't illegal. And yet... and yet, I just can't seem to give in to him.

Or let him go, either.

**Several hours later **

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Bikky asks, startling me out of my reverie. My cocoa's gone cold on the table beside me, the sun is stretching golden rays across the floor, and I'm no closer to an answer. And Dee's still gone.

"Don't swear," I scold. "And I'm fine."

"Aww, Rhyoh, you know it's hard for me not to swear. I'm not even awake yet."

"Try harder," I tell him. "What do you want for breakfast?"

He thinks a minute, face twisting in concentration. "I dunno... bacon sandwiches?" Dee's creation, of course. I never even kept bacon in the house until I met him. The "recipe" (all of Dee's recipes are more combination than anything else) calls for white toast (wheat ruins it – he's emphatic on that point), butter, mayonaise, bacon of course, and cheese, tomato or lettuce, depending.

"Sure," I say, without even arguing. Usually I'd insist he at least have an orange or an apple or something. This morning I'm just too tired. Beside me, Bikky takes out the cutting board and starts in on a tomato. When he's finished he fills a glass with milk (that's healthy anyway) and adds a straw. Another Dee thing – they like to blow bubbles. I've tried to put a stop to it, but they make me laugh.

"Hey Rhyoh," Bikky says after his first bite into the sandwich. "Why are you listening to this whiny-as... er, sad-sack music? Are you sure nothing's the matter?"

I give a wry smile. I didn't even realize, but I am listening to some pretty mournful stuff – a mix that Dee made me ages ago. Old Earth songs: Delicate, Could I be You, Hallelujah, Just Watch the Fireworks, Somewhere Out There. The last especially reminds me of Dee, mentioning purple hair like he has. He has another mix that's supposed to be about me. I like that one better, but it was too upbeat for 4 AM. "Nothing's wrong, Biks. I can turn it off."

"No, it's fine. Just wanted to make sure you're okay." His concern touches me. I'm way too sensitive today. "Dee made this CD, huh?"

"Yeah. How can you tell?"

"He has a good ear for putting things together – always does it by some theme." Theme is Bikky's newest favorite word, picked up from Cal. "Like, something in the lyrics will be the same, or the music will all blend together. He made me a pretty good mix that I like to listen to. I'm gonna ask him if I can go through his collection sometime."

That surprises me – Dee and Bikky are usually at war. Sometimes I forget that they get along. To Bikky, Dee's sort of an older brother. You wouldn't look to him for discipline, but he might have cool stuff to borrow, or good advice. "What kind of CD did he make for you?"

"Rock, mostly. That one band he likes so much with the high-pitched singer's on there."

"Afterimage."

"Yeah. Squeezebox, and one about a monster... Godzilla..." He giggles a little. "Big balls."

"That's a song?"

"Uh-huh. It's funny." He's clearly thinking. "Hang on, there's more. One about that big Earth city – New York? Street Savois Faire. Iron Man. Strut. Ziggy Stardust. Pink Cadillac. Cheap Sunglasses. Sympathy for the Devil."

I don't know almost any of the songs, but it makes me feel better to talk about Dee. It was nice of him to handpick something he thought Bikky would like. Helping the orphanage out like he does, he doesn't have money for fancy presents – but he certainly is a giving heart. When Cal got money for school clothes, Dee went with her to be her "fashion coach" and Bikky went with Dee to keep him from being a perv. He's taken Bikky to three or four basketball games this year and the three of them have made it to the movies whenever something big came out. "So what's the theme?" I ask Bikky.

"Things that both of us can handle without someone getting thrown out of the car," he says simply. I can't help but laugh.

"So where is the perv, anyway?" Bikky asks. "Will he be coming around begging for food? Should I set my traps?"

This is their latest game. Instead of getting into physical battles which scare me to death, they now plant intricate (but not deadly) traps. So far they've used whipped cream, water guns, rope, ice, and sticky foam. I'm just glad that no one's yet stumbled onto the idea of paint or eggs.

Remembering where Dee is, I sigh. "No. He won't be over this weekend."

"Why not? His regularly scheduled lobotomy?"

"He's in space."

Bikky cocks his head questioningly. "He got called out without you? That's weird."

"N-no, he didn't get called out. He just went." _He's tired of waiting, of reaching out just to get burned. And he's hurting... because of me. _

"He'll be back," Bikky says with the optimism of youth and a conscience that's clear. He hasn't been breaking someone's heart for months after all.

"I hope so," I say quietly as he heads for his room, preparing to call Cal.

**DEE**

I don't remember space being so cold. Of course, it could be having a near-space ship without the proper temperature adjustment equipment for deep-space travel, but I'd rather not think of that. All in all, the old girl's holding up pretty well and I'm feeling... well... I... it sucks, okay? It's not working.

I thought that being in my ship, I'd remember why I liked my bachelor lifestyle – why I'd kept it despite many offers for serious relationships. So I ate bad food, slept in my boxers (under lots of blankets!), and blared my music real loud. I drank too much, went two days without a shower, and watched sports until stats were coming out of my ears. I even turned on the adult channel for a minute... but it didn't hold me. All I could think of was him.

He's my soulmate, though. What am I supposed to think of? I wonder what he's doing. Rejoicing in his newfound Dee-free space, probably. Or cleaning. I've never met someone who cleans so much. And what about the brat? He's probably with Cal. There's a game this weekend. We could've gone. Then afterward, Bikky would crash or whine to stay over Cal's and it would just be me and Rhyoh. Maybe he'd let me hold him – kiss him even.

I snarl and pound a fist against a metal wall. Damn it! Maybe is not enough to live on! That's why I came out here! To get away from "maybe" and "sometimes" and coming so close but not all the way. I don't want to be some undefined relationship. I don't want to be his work partner that he sometimes invites over... for what? To sleep beside? To almost-halfway make out with, then tell he's not like that, not gay? I don't give a damn what he calls himself... I just want some kind of direction. Some kind of sign. Even if it was just to tell me to leave him alone for good.

Looking out the view port at the endless, empty blackness I realize that I don't want to be alone anymore.

**RHYOH**

Technically, Keepers are not supposed to use city resources for our own purposes. However, we do it all the time. Like blocking off a series of streets for the wedding party when one of our coworkers got married. Or going through the repossession lists to find a car for someone's kid. And then there's always the petty stuff: getting out of a ticket, job connections. So I don't feel really guilty when I ask Gwen to find someone in space travel who will know how to find Dee.

"I really shouldn't," she says with a conspiratorial wink, "But I probably owe you some, Randor."

"Because of Dee getting into my file, you mean?" I ask, winking back.

She flushes a little. "Oh my! You know about that? You two must be getting pretty tight, huh?"

"He's my best friend."

She smiles as if she just received a gift; station gossip is going to get interesting, I just know it. "Oh! Well isn't that wonderful! Lyghtner's needed someone to watch out for him for years."

"I do my best," I say.

"What's he doing in space, anyway?" she asks, looking through computer files.

"I-I don't know," I lie (badly). "But I just... I want to make sure he's okay."

"Ah! Here it is! Landrin Opalla. He works over in space traffic, and he and Dee are friends. He'll be able to find the ship."

Impulsively, I hug her, and she flushes again. "Thanks, Gwen."

I turn and head out of the station. It's funny, once I would have thought that Gwen was pretty. Now there's just Dee, and I'm not going to feel okay again until I talk to him.

**Several hours later **

I'm pacing the floor of my apartment, no doubt annoying the hell out of my neighbors. I talked to Landrin hours ago, and he found the coordinates for me without a fuss – real nice guy. He did look me over a couple of times and I wondered what Dee had told him. Turns out that my partner's not in near-space like he's supposed to be, but in deep-space with a craft that's anything but equipped for it.

"He'll be fine," Landrin assured me. "He's a good pilot."

I'm still worried. Besides that, Dee either has his shields up like never before, or I can't reach him across such a big distance. Maybe both. It makes me feel sad – Dee never shields me. Not that I do him the same favor, but I've always been afraid of him coming to close to what he means to me, discovering the truth. I just wish I could tell him the truth and be done with, even if it did somehow make me a bad person. Even if I did lose everything I am. Even if Rick and Elena disowned me. I feel so empty without him.

And yet I haven't called him, either. For heaven's sakes, I'm acting like a teenage girl after her first date! I'm a Keeper, dammit! I can place a call! Sheesh! Still, my hands tremble when I type in the coordinates that will let my computer reach out to Dee's ship. For a few moments, the signal transmits, crying out into space.

**DEE**

My computer is honking at me.

BRE-AWK! BRE-AWK!

It takes me a minute to realize that I'm not in the middle of an asteroid field or being boarded by hostile forces; it's just a message. Wait a minute. Message? From who? I'm away from most planets, so I'm not being scanned. No one knows I'm here except...

"Rhyoh?"

"Hey," he says across several million miles. His voice is shot through with light, transparent in it's shyness.

"Hey buddy," I say, feeling fluttery all of the sudden. Then reality kicks in and fear takes me. "Rhyoh? Is something wrong? Did something happen with Bikky or Cal? Are you okay?"

He chuckles on the other end and I can see him smiling. "No. Dee, calm down. Nothing's wrong."

"So why are you calling me?" I ask rudely, still upset and at the mercy of my emotions.

"I-I just wanted to talk to you," he says quietly. "I was worried about you, Dee."

I sit down in my nest of blankets and pull one close around me, wanting to be comfortable. I want to hold on to him for as long as possible. I wish he was beside me in this bed. So much for leaving him behind, huh? I strain against the speaker, wanting more of the sound of him. Oh, yeah, guess I should talk too, huh? "I'm fine, bud. Just fine. I'm sorry if I worried you." I wouldn't say it to anyone else, but it's different with Rhyoh. He brings out sides of me that _I_ didn't even know about.

"It's all right. You shouldn't have that ship out in deep space, Dee."

Gods, but I love it when he says my name. That's why I have the datastick, just to hear him say that one syllable. "Yes," would be better, but "Dee" is enough for now. I feel a little guilty over the datastick... but not guilty enough to give it up. "I know," I say at last. "It didn't work anyway," I add quietly. There's no running from some things. I wonder how he found the ship? For me, it's enough that he'd bother to try.

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

"When are you coming back, Dee?"

I look out at the starscape. The lights are beautiful, but dead and distant. There's nothing for me out here, not even the sanctuary of escape. I must have lapsed into silence for a long time, because the next thing I hear is him saying, "Come home, Dee."  
I reach for the navigation panel and turn the ship around.

"Dee?"

"I'm on my way, Rhyoh." His name sounds holy in my mouth. "I'm on my way."

**RHYOH**

Something in the room has changed while I slept. I sit up in bed, eyes searching the darkness. My windows are flung open to catch the first hint of April. It's still cold in the early morning, so I have plenty of heavy blankets on the bed, but the trees are beginning to bud and I'm tired of being shut inside. The clock reads 2:37. I breathe deep smelling the cold green smell of the season, the comfortable, familiar smells of the apartment. But something's different.

The door to my bedroom is cracked, emitting just a thin stream of light which glitters across the polished tops of my partner's boots. "Dee?"

"Hey." His voice is different, worn with trials. If I wasn't so tired, I'd ask him about it, I'd try to take the burden from him. "I didn't mean to wake you," he says, coming forward to stand at the foot of the bed. "I was just gonna check on you, then go." His voice is shaking a little and he breaks suddenly, leaning across the bed to touch my face in the darkness. "Let me hold you. Tonight. Just tonight. I'll do better tomorrow, I promise." His words tumble from him like a dark current pulling him along. His hands are cold and I know he walked from home. "I won't speak. I won't move. Just let me have this. I've earned it, I think."

I say nothing and as he climbs across the bed, discarding his boots, I know I'm watching him break down, somehow, watching something in him shatter. And still, I can't help but pull him close to me, holding tight. I press my face into his hair and breathe him in, feeling whole again. He's cold and trembling, and it seems like there's stardust in his hair and skin. I hold him in my arms until morning.

**DEE**

Rhyoh surprised me when he called me home, and when he reached for me last night (I've never slept better in my life!). But he really surprised me when he called off work today. The last thing I ever expected to see was Rhyoh Clarion playing hooky when there's a big case to solve. Unless... could this mean that he's trying to solve something a little more personal, a little closer to home? When I teased him about it, he flushed a little and shrugged.

"I have vacation time too, y'know. I haven't been sleeping well – I don't feel like going to look at a stack of 'leads' that lead nowhere."

"That's the spirit!" I told him. "So can I stay?"

"I'd like that." he said, eyes shining. I felt like dancing; he wanted me!

So here I am, eating breakfast with my favorite person in the world, free from work. He isn't even chiding me that much about the ship, other than to tell me not to do it again.

"Thanks for letting me hang out," I tell him, finishing up the French toast. That's out of character for Rhyoh too – he usually doesn't favor sugary things for breakfast. Maybe I'm rubbing off on him. Sure, I'd rather rub up against him – ummmm – but being a bad influence is okay too.

"I missed you," he says with refreshing directness. I know he's still not ready for everything I want yet, but I can tell that he's thinking about it. His eyes rest on me more often and he doesn't color as quickly when I look at him or touch him. I feel lighter since returning from space – and I know it's not readjustment to the gravity of New Abode. It was good for me to see that I can't outrun this (something I should have known anyway), good for me to see that there's no giving up for me. No matter what, I'm going to be at his side.

"That's good," I tell him, gathering the dishes. " 'Cause you're not getting rid of me." I wink at him as I walk into the kitchen. He's waiting for me in the living room when I return from finishing up the dishes. "Whatcha thinkin' about?" I ask him, seeing the distance in his eyes.

"You," he says, charming me with a word.

"Oh?" I lift my eyebrows at him, questioningly. "Good things, I hope?"

He pushes at me playfully. "Are there any good things _to_ think?"

Snatching his wrist, I pin it, and push him back until he's laying underneath me. I don't remember when I discovered that Rhyoh was ticklish, but it's been interesting knowledge to have all the same. "C'mon now," I say torturing his ribs. "There's got to be _something_ you can think of."

He's gasping, laughing so hard that I can feel him shuddering against my legs. "Dee! Stop! Please!"

"Not until you tell me something good about the wonderful and super-sexy person that is me," I tell him, easing up enough for him to get his breath.

""You..." he's still laughing between words, "You... care... about...me – good taste!"

Now I have to laugh with him. "Egotist!"

"It's true!"

"It is true," I say quietly, letting him go. "I tried to stop, but I can't. So I just want you to know that I'll be waiting for you, Rhyoh. I love you, and I'll wait for as long as it takes. I know it's hard for you to accept me as your soulmate," my voice breaks a little; I never was good at speeches. "Because I'm a guy and because of the way I am, but I'll wait as long as it takes."

To my surprise, he answers my words by clasping one of my hands. "I'm sorry I keep hurting you, Dee. I-I can't promise you anything, but, but, I'm glad you're not giving up on me."

For now, for today, and for me – that's enough.

**Rhyoh's Apartment **

Bikky came into the house whistling, musicBoxx turned up loud enough to entertain himself and several surrounding people. Dee's shoes were by the door, he noticed, and an evil-seeming smile lit up his face. He'd been missing the perv – not like Rhyoh was of course! - but missing having someone to beat up on. You just couldn't roughhouse with Rhyoh – he was too gentle, too full of worry to get down on the carpet and really play.

However, as Bikky made his way to the living room he found himself readjusting his assessment a little. Rhyoh was, indeed, down on the floor – on his back. He wasn't playing, wasn't even moving. His eyes were closed and his face was soft, at peace. For the past few days all Bikky had seen in his face was sharp-edged worry and a grey cast that bespoke of sleepless nights. And over Rhyoh's lean body – soft shirt and jeans belted tight on his lean waist – was the perv. Bikky saw red, and charged, dislodging the offensive bulk in one motion. Surprised, Dee flew backward to crash into a chair.

As Dee ranted, raved and threatened, Bikky knelt down beside a red-faced Rhyoh and extended a bunch of flowers. "Rhyoh, this is from Miss Hail."

"Your teacher?"

Bikky was satisfied to see that Dee was glaring, clearly made jealous by the small gesture. "Yep. She always brings in flowers. She bought too many and said she thought of you. She says to say hello to the Commander too."

"To the Commander?" Rhyoh's face showed confusion and worry.

"I'm more concerned with why she thought of you," Dee chimed in. "What do these flowers mean? Does she want into your pants too?"

At the "too" Rhyoh whacked him with the plants, getting leaves in his dark hair. "I doubt there is a hidden meaning, Sherlock. She bought too many is all."

Dee had his nose buried deep in the plants, like a bee. "Smell these, will ya?" he said to Rhyoh, passing the flowers over.

Rhyoh breathed deep and nodded. Curious, Bikky took them next. "They smell like fireworks," he said.

"Uh-huh," said Dee, ruffling his hair. "Good job, mini-Keeper."

"Please – like I'd work for your salary. I'm so worth more than that."

Dee shrugged; it was a fair cop. "That's the smell of gunpowder."

"You think Miss Hail could be connected to the recent bombings?" Rhyoh asked, reading Dee's mind without even using the bond they shared.

"Could be."

"You want to check her out?"

"I'll look into it, yeah. Tomorrow." He stretched and yawned. "I should know better than to expect a restful vacation anyway."

**DreyCallah - Narration **

A sorry-eyed Commander Russelford stood on the stoop of a run down house in DreyCallah. He knew that, in some ways, he was responsible for the meager living of those who lived behind its door. His hand had robbed them of their provider, after all. Hands cold with sweat, he pressed the doorbell.

"Who's there?" called a voice made old with overwork. "Jane? Is that you?"

"The name's Russelford. I'm a Keeper." As expected, his voice drew her to the doorway with quick steps and wide eyes. "Hello. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Even though she was obviously struggling to hold her small house together, Mrs. Hale did not lack for breeding or manners. She placed a delicate cup in his hands, full of hot coffee, and led him to the living room. "What brings you out here today, Commander?" Years ago, he had made frequent checks on her when Jane was young. It was a tough neighborhood for two women after all, but it was home, and she'd never had it in her to pick up and go. But Jane was grown now, and she could think of no reason for the Commander to turn up on her doorstep.

"I was in the neighborhood. I thought I would stop by."

Her disbelief was clear. "Is that the only reason?"

"There have been two bombings in the Highlands in the past four days. In both incidents, the manner in which the explosives were manufactured and assembled matches your husband's M.O."

She took a warm swallow of coffee for strength. "Commander Russelford, my husband was shot and killed ten years ago." Her voice grew harsh, accusing. "But you already knew that, didn't you? After all, you're the one who shot him."

**The Center School – two days later **

Bikky kicked at the stone steps of his school as he bolted back up them. He'd been free – half-way home, in fact – when he remembered that his homework was still snug in the bottom of his locker. He could have left it there, lied to Rhyoh, and accepted the inevitable bad marks come the next day of class, but his conscience had started niggling him, and back he had come. As he walked down the hall, he saw another figure up ahead.

_Miss Hail? What's she doing going into the music room? She doesn't teach music! _ He padded quietly down the hall and stopped outside the music room. Inside, he saw a large black duffel bag, unzipped. Inside was a ticking mess of metal, and wire. Bikky gasped. It was a bomb!

"Did you forget something at school, Bikky?" asked a voice behind him. In an instant, Miss Hail had him wrapped in a surprisingly tight grip. He struggled, but the small woman was _strong_! He wondered if her strength came from toting dynamite about, or if she was some kind of magic user. Either way, he was caught – and by a girl!

"I'm sorry to be doing this to you, Bikky," she said, dragging him to another room. "But you definitely weren't supposed to see that. I'm afraid the only place you'll be going now is a long detention."

Through the small window in the door, Bikky saw a sight that he never thought would be welcome – but which was, this time! _Dee! He must have come to investigate the bombing! Oh no – he's gonna walk right by! _Loosening a heavy sneaker, Bikky swung his legs – hard!- and sent a shoe careening out into the hall. With reflexes even a monkeybrat could admire, Dee swung around, gun pointed out before him as if drawn from air. Unfortunately, Jane Hail had a gun too, and it was pointed at Bikky's head.

"Bikky!" The concern and terror in Dee's voice was loud and automatic; Bikky had never seen him so scared.

"Stop right there!" Jane Hail shouted. "Toss me your gun and put your hands behind your head." Dee made an animal-like growling sound, but he obeyed, locking eyes with Bikky to try to reassure him. He didn't care whether he got out or not, but he wanted the kid to be okay. "Face right," said Jane. "Go into the next classroom and keep walking until you hit the window."

"You know, I really don't like being ordered around like this," Dee told her.

"You'll learn to like it if you want to keep breathing," she retorted sweetly. "You too, Bikky. Go on, and don't try anything."

The two of them stood with their backs to the glass. "Happy?" Dee asked.

"Almost."

The shot took Dee in the upper leg, throwing him back against the wall. The plasterboard was covered with a spray of blood. Dee groaned deep in his throat, wrapping his arms around the wound.

"Oh my god! Dee!" Bikky cried.

"Kid, every time we end up somewhere together, I end up getting shot!" he tells him, remembering their orginal meeting in Am's hideout.

"I came here for a reason," Jane said, unaffected by the blood and pain she'd caused. "So I can't have you wandering off whenever you feel like it."

"That's why you sent us that lovely gunpowder bouquet, huh?" said Dee, sweat pouring down his face.

"Worked like a charm," she said, rosy lips curled in a smile. "I also contacted the principal and said I'd take care of things here. So nice to be trusted by your superiors."

"So you had it all planned," Dee said, his breathing hard and ragged. "Not bad at all. Unfortunate for me, though." Jane wasn't paying any attention, typing something into a remote-like device. "What are you doing now?"

"I managed to get 15 bombs set up before you showed up, but I've got a lot more to do and I've lost time, having to deal with you two. I'm resetting the timers for the fuses. Your friends should be arriving soon. Let's see... how about we give them five minutes? Sound fair? Sorry about having to kill you two in the blast, but what can you do? Besides, I'd like this to be quite a spectacle."

"Spectacle?" Dee repeated. "Why? What for?" He was pretty sure he couldn't reason with Miss Hail – the gleam in her eyes told him that – but he would have liked a motive at least.

"If you want to know why, I suggest you ask your dear friend Commander Russelford. Ask the goddamn murderer!" Then she was gone.

**DEE**

Biks makes a run for the door. "It's locked, Dee!" I can tell that Jane's little speech about killing us in the blast didn't go over well with the kid. He's starting to panic. At that moment, my wristband starts beeping away. I know the signal well enough.

"Dee? What's your location?"

"Rhyoh?" The way I say his name – like a drowning man grabbing for a rope he never thought to see – affects even the kid. My partner doesn't even notice.

"Who else? You were supposed to meet with me awhile ago, where are you? And before you make up an excuse, guess what? We got another anonymous tip that Bikky's school's wired to blow. It was from the same psycho as before. Dee, you there?"

It takes me a minute to get my voice, plus I have to shut Bikky up. I clamp a hand around his mouth before speaking. "Yeah, bud. I'm here. Where are you right now?"

"I'm standing outside the fence surrounding the school, getting ready to take some of our boys in," he begins.

"DON'T!! I'm sitting right on top of the bomb. That bitch shot my leg, so I'm not going anywhere."

Panic surfaces in his voice. "I'll get the bomb squad in there right now!"

"No! Don't let anyone in here! There are at least fifteen bombs wired up around here and you don't know where any of them are. There's not enough time. You're not gonna make it – trust me. You've got three minutes before the place goes sky high. That's not enough time to defuse them, never mind toting an injured body around. Stay the hell put, got it?"

"But Dee!!!"

I smile a little; it's nice to know he cares about me, facing possible death as I am. "Don't worry about me," I tell him, all bravado. "I'm pretty sure I can handle the one in this room. So trust me, okay? Don't worry."

**RHYOH**

And my wristband dies, and slides right down off of my wrist onto the pavement. My hands are pale and shaking. "Dee!" I scream at nothing, slamming my fist into the fence that separates me from my partner. "Of course I'll worry!!!!!"

"Rhyoh?" JJ asks from behind me, just arriving on scene. "What's the problem? How come the bomb squad's still outside? The gates locked or something?"

"Dee," I say in a hoarse whisper. "Dee's inside..."

"What?" JJ screams. "We have to get inside there! Let's go!"

"We won't make it," I tell him, grieving already for his coyote grin, his green, green eyes. "We don't have enough time."

"That's not the point!" JJ screams into my face. "Dee's in there, so I'm going in!"

I thrust my body between him and the gate. "Nobody's going anywhere!"

JJ glares at me like a wild thing, teeth bared. In this moment, I think he hates me. "Dammit, Dee's in there. Why are you of all people trying to stop me from saving him? Tell me why, Rhyoh!!!"

I can only look away, tears gathering in my eyes as the clock ticks down. I'm going to lose everything... and there's so much that I never even had...

**DEE**

"Okay, there, set it over there," I guide the kid. "Gently." The planter is now right beside me. "Can you get me that pen holder too?" He hands it over, hands shaking just a little.

"Uhhm, Dee? I know it might be kind of late, but uh, two questions."

Closing up the wound in my leg a little, I nod. I don't have the time or the energy to go into a real healing trance, but I should be able to move a little now. "Sure."

"One, can you really do anything about this bomb?" he asks. "And two, if not, you do have a plan for getting us out of here, right?"

Ah, ye of so little faith, I think, getting to my feet. "Well, sorta." With one good punch, I've obliterated the glass in the windowpane. "One thing I do know for sure, this is the second floor, so," I sweep Bikky into my arms. "When you hit the ground, you run like hell, okay?" One good swing, and I throw him.

He hits the ground, rolls, and is up on his feet and running. Score one for Dee! Then he stops running and turns to look up at me, realizing I'm not following. "Dee!"

"Get out of here, Bikky," I shout down. "Get your ass as far away from the school as possible."

"But..."

Time to play angry Dee, I guess. "I said run, you stupid simian brat! And if you even think about looking back, I'll come down there and smack some sense into you!" It's his father's language that I'm speaking, Am's language – I hope he knows that I'm only doing it to keep him safe.

He's proud, though, and screams back at me with angry tears in his eyes. "If you die, I'll smack the shit out of you too! You hear me, you dork?" Then he's running again, going as fast as he can go with only one shoe. I have to laugh a little; he's a clever kid, that one. I make my way back over to the bomb and smash the vase that's holding it. "Friggin' woman, riggin' a bomb to a vase..." I mutter, disembling the thing. Within a minute, the insides are staring up at me: one fake wire that does squat and one trigger wire that lights up the whole place. It's so simple that it makes me want to cry.

Well then, eenie meenie miney moe...

**RHYOH**

Seeing Bikky flying out of the school has my heart in my throat and I hold him tight against me as soon as he's clear of the fence.

"Bikky, what the hell are you doing here?"

He's panting hard from the run, and there are grass stains on his clothes. He's only wearing one shoe! "I... I forget something at school... it's Dee... Rhyoh, Dee..."

"Where's Dee, Bikky?"

"He threw me out the window, but, he's... do you remember the music room we were in when you visited on parent's day?"

In that instant, the school explodes. Glass flies from the windows and smoke reaches into the sky. Debris litters the lawn, smoking. I wait approximately three seconds before racing inside, ignoring the possibility of other bombs, ignoring the cries of my fellow officers.

Some of the building is still intact, and I start there, ducking under the smoke. Breathing hurts my lungs, but I can't wait. I have to know if he's alive. Inside of my head, I feel nothing. If he thought he was going to die, he would have shielded me, would have kept the pain from me... Gods, he's got to be okay. He has to be.

I stalk through the building with slow steps, peering in every classroom. My hands are clutched in my shirt and I'm clinging to hope just as hard. Ahead of me, one of the walls has been blown into the hallway.

"Someone out there?" a voice calls.

I walk through the plasterboard smoke of the wall, silent, praying. He's sitting up against a blood spattered wall. There's dust in his hair and on his clothes and sweat on his face. He's smiling faintly, crinkle lines around his eyes.

"Yo, long time no see."

All I can do is stare.

**DEE**

Rhyoh's nothing but cute with that deer-in-the-headlights look he's got going on. And man am I ever glad to see him.

"See, I told you I'd be all right!" I tell him, newly energized after a brush with death. "I'm like a cat with nine lives – you just can't kill me!" No response from him, so I keep going. "I managed to defuse the bomb in this room, but I couldn't get the one next door. Luckily for me, it had a weak charge. All it did was take out the wall. W-What is it, dude?" He's starting to scare me a little now. He seems like someone in shock. "Are you gonna say something or just stare at me?"

Then he's running, covering the distance between us in one clean motion. His tie whips back around him and he lands in my arms, his arms locked around me. And then he's kissing me – Rhyoh, kissing me!!!! - tears running down his cheeks. I wrap my fingers in his hair and hold him, kissing back. His touch rattles me more than the explosion, and when he ends the kiss I ask, wonderingly, "Rhyoh...?"

**RHYOH**

I just can't let go... can't let go of him. The smell of him, his warm skin, his heart beating – he's still alive!

"You said to, you said to," I say into his shoulder, shaking, sobbing.

"Huh?"

"You said for me to just wait there," I cry. "I-I don't ever want to feel this way again ---- never again!!" So many memories of him had flooded my mind as I stood outside that fence... my life would be so empty without him...

**DEE**

So he does care, after all, just the same as I do. He's just still too scared to admit it, to face up to it. But still, I think I have my answer, here in his arms, and I hold back tight, patting his back to soothe him. "Sorry guy," I tell him, closing my eyes in happiness, "I won't ever ask you to do that again, okay?"

We're a team. Partners. No more going it alone. I feel safer and more content than I've ever been.

But, as much as I wish this moment could last forever, duty calls – and JJ appears.

"Rhyoh!" he howls like a deranged werewolf. "What the hell do you think you're doing!? You don't even try to save him, and now you're going to reap all the glory?" JJ could rant paint off the walls, I swear. "And what are you doing holding him like that?"

Rhyoh finally lets me go with a sheepish grin, but without much of a cover story, either. "It just sort of happened." Unfortunately, as soon as he's out of the way, JJ leaps at me, barely clearing my wounded leg.

"Dee!!!! I was so worried about you, yes I was ! My stud! My handsome! My god!" I stop listening after that.

"I wonder what the bomber was hoping to gain – blowing up the school like this?" Rhyoh asks, back on duty in an instant now that he's sure I'm okay. That's allright – maybe we can sort some things out later.

"That reminds me, where's the Commander?" I ask.

"Ooh, I know!" JJ squeals. "He got a call right before he left the station. He gave me the address where he'll be at. You think he's in trouble?"

"Maybe," I say. "Rhyoh, go get the car and bring it around. We need to get out of here."

"What do you mean?" he asks. "Dee, you shouldn't be anywhere but with the medics!"

"I've got it bound up and it's not bleeding. I'll be fine, but the Commander... he's a whole other story."

On the way there, I turn to my partner. "Stop me if you've heard this before, but I remember a story the Commander told me once about a case he was working. About ten years ago, a small-time ring was using a certain type of explosives to break into bank vaults. After he got a pile of evidence, the Commander went off on his own to try to get one of the perps to confess: Robert Hail. Apparently, the ring was using the threat of the man's family to keep him making the explosives they needed.

"The Commander tried to get the man to come forward, but he went crazy, and went to attack his daughter and wife. The Commander shot him."

"So the record I saw in the data room," Rhyoh begins, putting two and two together. "It was probably Robert Hail's?"

"Right."

But my ultra-deductive Keeper friend isn't done yet (I like to watch him work through things... I think it's kind of sexy). "Hail... then Jane Hail?"

"His daughter."

"So, revenge? For her father's death?"

"Yeah, but that's not the whole story..."

Meanwhile, Commander Russelford was a captive audience for Jane Hail's delusions. He had agreed to meet with her in hopes that he could convince her to leave off her crimes, but, upon arriving at the scene of Robert Hail's murder, he had been shot twice – in both the arm and the leg.

"The place hasn't changed much, has it?" Jane asked, pacing the old floorboards, skirt flashing out around her thin frame. "Do you remember the last time we were here together? This is where you killed my father. They never were able to sell it after the murder. Convenient, isn't it, to revisit the scene of the crime? It's something a Keeper would like, I'd think."

Sweat trailed down the Commander's face; his wounds throbbed and his blood was sticky on the floor. "The recent bombings... those were all you?"

She flicked her golden hair out of her face. "You already know the answer to that. I used the same materials and procedures as dear old dad, after all. You want to know my motive too?" She leaned in until her face was close to his. "Revenge, pure and simple."

She tapped her nails against the wall. "First, a school in your district. Then, your very own station. Then the same school again... but this time one of your officers and a young child were killed in the blast. What was his name? That loud-mouthed Keeper?" She smiled. "Ah yes, Dee."

The Commander gasped and looked away, aching. If Dee had been lost, then the child was likely Bikky – Rhyoh's adopted son. He knew Rhyoh would not long outlast him._ Dee... I wish I'd been able to keep you _safe.

"My only regret is that I didn't get to kill them right in front of your eyes – like you killed my father. But it's your turn now. I can't wait to see_ you_ die – right in front of my eyes!"

"Hail!!"

Leaning on a doorframe, Dee entered the room a moment after his shot had knocked the gun from Jane's hand. Rhyoh was right behind, bringing Jane crashing to her knees. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked the Commander, locking the binders in place.

"Yes. I am now – thanks to you two."

"I''ll read you your rights myself, Hail," Dee joked from the doorway. "On the way to the station."

Jane turned to him with a snarl. "But, you!? How?"

"Because I'm not as dumb as I am pretty – that's why. I've defused tougher buggers than the one you left me back there." He winked. "Plus, I am one lucky S.O.B."

"Rich talk from some murderer's lap dog," she shot back.

"Why don't you just shut up about that," Dee said coldly.

"Right," Rhyoh jumped in. "You're the one running from the truth!"

"The truth?" Jane asked.

"Dee, what are you doing?" Russelford asked, clearly alarmed.

Rhyoh touched him on the arm. "Sir. I think it's time. Time she knew what really happened."

"What really happened?" Jane sneered. "I was there, Keeper."

"Ten years ago, when the Commander shot your father, he wasn't in his right mind," Dee began.

"True, he did pick up a knife," Rhyoh said, taking over. "And true, he did try to take someone out with it."

"But if you think back hard to that day," said Dee, "I think you'll remember, Jane – your father was trying to kill _you_."

"No... no... this can't be true. You're lying."

"They're not, Jane," said Mrs. Hail, coming into the room.

"Mother!?" Jane seemed devoutly ashamed to be in binders before her mother; all of her hardness left her.

"I'm sorry it took so long to track her down," JJ told his fellow Keepers.

Dee patted him on the shoulder. "Perfectly timed entrance, buddy. Thanks."

"Your father did raise a knife against you, Jane. Ten years ago, Detective Russelford shot your father in defense of you. The shock was so much for you... you remembered only that your father had been shot. The Commander believed that there was no reason for a child to have to remember that her father had tried to kill her. We kept it a secret from you."

The Commander spoke. "It still doesn't change the fact that I took your father from you, Jane. I've never truly forgiven myself for your loss. I am truly sorry."

Mrs. Hail touched his shoulder. "You did nothing wrong, Commander. The only mistake we made was not telling Jane years ago." She knelt down beside her child and wiped the tears from her face. "Commander, she'll confess. Can we... can we just have a few hours alone together?"

"Of course. I understand."

And within a few hours, Jane Hail appeared at the 13-&-2 with a full, signed confession.

**RHYOH**

It took a lot of insisting to get Dee to the medics, so I'm a little worried about how much trouble he may have caused as I walk down the halls of the medical center. To my surprise, he's lying still and silent in bed when I come in – with flowers for him, for a change!

"How are you feeling?" I ask him.

" Good, good – I'm in my pajamas in the afternoon, so it can't be too bad, huh? The bullet went through clean, so it's healing nice. I'm glad Hail didn't have lasers!"

"Me too."

"I'll be out in no time," he boasts, striking a strongman's pose. "Don't cheat on me while I'm out cold though, huh?"

Usually I'd shut him up, but I just chuckle. "I'll be on my best behavior."

My words are like some kind of signal for him, and he leaps (with a wounded leg!) forward, dragging me into his arms.

"Dee! What are you doing!!? Doesn't that hurt?"

"I'm shot full of drugs, nothing hurts." He holds me tight against him, talking into my shoulder. "Hey, Rhyoh, back at the school, I think that's the first time you really gave me a peek at how you feel about me."

I swallow hard, heat rushing into my face. I knew this was coming, knew what I had done... and I know that if he asks me now, I won't be able to lie to him, no matter how scared I am.

He kisses me full on the lips, tongue slipping into my mouth. It doesn't have the bittersweet desperation-and-redemption quality of our kiss in the bombed-out school, but it's sweet in its own way, tender. I let him break away first and stare up at him, dazed, boneless.

"What you said back there," he leans in, face almost touching mine, "Is that how you really feel?"

"I..." I can feel his breath on my face, can feel myself coming so close to breaking, and then...

"GAHHHH! Shut the hell up already!" The Commander? And he's beating Dee with a pillow? Doesn't he have a wounded arm?

I flush seven shades of crimson. "Commander, you're sharing this room?" _What a crappy insurance plan... _

"I get a freakin' bit of time off for R&R and I'm next to you soap opera du jour idiots!"

Dee's not at all embarrassed that our boss just saw us kissing - he only seems disappointed that he's without an answer again. "Cool it, Commander. You don't want to bust a blood vessel, or five."

Then Godzilla Nurse storms in, knocking both the Commander and my partner for a loop. She must have served on a prison ship or in the armed forces or something! Wow! Admiring and frightened of her, I make my retreat.

"Wait!" Dee cries, "I'm not done asking you about..."

I give him a wave. "Take care, you two! Call me when you get home, Dee!"

Well, I'm off the hook.

At least, for now.


	8. Chapter 8

HeartShy

By: SinnamonGirl

Disclaimer: Fake and all of its characters belong to Sanami Matoh.

So the final scene sounds a lot like an out-take from my smaller story "Choose," so sorry for that. I didn't look back at the first one while I was writing, but they sort of ended up the same…

NEWLY REVISED thanks to some wonderful constructive criticism. Thanks for all of your help! (You know who you are!)

**RHYOH**

I hate this.

I know without looking to the clock that it's late. I'm alone in the apartment – Bikky's with Cal and a few other friends at a sleepover study session – and the night feels huge and quiet all around me. Even the city seems strangely muffled.

This has been happening more and more often lately – like my body's determined to force my mind to deal with what it can't accept. I go to bed tired out from work and from the nightly walk I take to try to clear my head, but it isn't very many hours before I wake up again, aching for him.

I groan and pull a pillow over my face, wishing I'd never heard of lifebonds. I belong to him. My life is his – that's what all the books and the experts that write them say. But where does that leave me? Do I stop belonging to myself? And how can I belong to someone anyway? Am I just supposed to submit and let him do whatever he wants to me?

Heat flashes through me at the thought. I _want _him to do whatever he wants to me, at least, my body wants it. And I hate it. I hate losing my independence, having his life so tangled up in mine that I can't stop thinking of him. He pulls at me even when we're not together… and when we are, well, it's getting harder and harder to resist his touches, his warm, hungry lips on mine.

Lips… gods…

I'm intensely conscious of the feel of my sleep clothes touching my skin, of the night air coming in through the window. I know that a few slight touches would be enough, that I could ride out the fantasy on my own. But when it's over and I'm spent, I'll still be alone in this bed, seeing his grin behind my eyes, wishing for the feel of him beside me. Damn him! He's taken everything away from me! My life, my sense of peace… I'm not even the same kind of Keeper anymore! And all because of a handshake? An assignment? If I'd been assigned to Dragen or Tieg, would it have happened differently? I remember Tieg telling me how only other healers or bondmates can help a healer. He knows, but he's one of the station's more considerate Keepers, and he hasn't said anything. Every once in awhile, he shoots me a sympathetic look though – like when JJ is wrapped around Dee and I'm trying not to let it show that I'd like to rip him off and throw him on the ground, or when Dee's trying something and I'm resisting because people are watching (dammnit!) but all I really want to do is tell him to take me right there on our office desk…

This is out of control. I've never, never wanted someone like I want Dee – never wanted to do the kind of things that come into my mind when I think of him. Is it his mind being connected to mine that puts this stuff in my head? I wish I could make it like it was before, back when we were first working together, back when he was just attractive to me… back when I didn't want him to undress me and kiss me all over, everywhere.

Sighing, I get to my feet and pull on my clothes, slip my feet into my shoes. There's only one thing that will help me get to sleep tonight – and that's going to Lingerlight.

**DEE**

When I hear soft steps in the hallway, I know it's him.

He's done it a few times now, used the key I gave him almost a year ago to come in here at night. It never startles me – the bond tells me who it is – but it hurts, sometimes. I learned the first time what he was coming for, and it gave me hope. I mean, why wouldn't it? He'd come in, change into sleeping clothes, and come lay beside me. He left his shields down and I could feel (with my healing powers) the tension lifting from him. Then I kissed him. Soft at first – it was late and I was tired – but harder and harder when he didn't resist. And then we were making out, his arms actually coming around me, and I thought that I was finally going to hear what he was about to say in the hospital. And then he stops me, panting.

"What you want, Dee… don't look for it in me."

WHAT!?!?

That's right. He comes over, he wakes me up, he gets me all hot and ready to go and then… nothing. He's using me. The bond gets to him every once in awhile and he can't deny that he is bound, that he wants me… so he comes here for relief. But never for anything else. He doesn't want to answer the bond or even to admit it exists – he just wants me to make him feel better. And you know the worst part? I do it. Every time. I never even stand up for myself.

I don't even understand my own actions anymore. I'd never take it from anyone else, but Rhyoh… he's my soulmate. So I never confront him or tell him to get out. I never pick up his hand and guide it to my cock that he's made hard and tell him to do something about it. I just kiss him and touch him – within_ his_ limits, always – and then I lay there, hurting, while he sleeps. Why am I good enough to kiss, but not good enough to keep? Why have I never been good enough for anyone to hold onto? Doesn't he know what it does to me to act like a bandage to him – to be his fucking temporary fix? I can feel his need – why can't he feel my pain?

He's beside me again, body warm with desire. He never touches me first. If I can keep from reaching for him, maybe I can get through tonight. Maybe I can keep from dragging into work tomorrow looking like death warmed over. Maybe I won't have to go out on the balcony and light cigarette after cigarette with my fingers fucking shaking, ready to cry. Of course, the only cure for the thing that's hurting me is that very same thing, _him_. So I kiss him, wanting the pain to stop for just a few minutes. I'll hate myself later.

When he pulls away – hard against me but too much of a damn coward to be with me all the way, to do anything about it – I sigh.

"Dee?"

That beloved voice… I just don't understand how it can hurt me so much. "I'm okay like this," I tell him, trying not to choke on the pressure building up in my throat. "On the side, in the dark and out of sight – but I'm not what you want always… like you are to me, and I can't live like that, not forever, Rhyoh. Maybe you should think about that."

This time, I'm not going to be the only one who doesn't get any sleep.

**The Next Day**

I'm tired and irritated that we've been called out on a murder scene that the locals could clearly have handled. There's really not much we can do to investigate – the bodies are pumped full of bullets and disfigured by lasers – but we're all on scene anyway: me, Rhyoh, Dragen, and Tieg. At least JJ's held up downtown somewhere. His high pitched squeals of "Super stud!" and "Mr. Sexy!" are about the last thing I need today. Rhyoh's eyes – rimmed with violet circles – and his sad expression are about all I can handle. I know I hurt him the other night, but what did he expect? How long was I supposed to let him twist the knife in me without trying to pull it out? It'd be different if I thought he was working his way into this relationship (you know, the one we don't have) slowly – but I know better. I know the bond is there and he very well may have feelings for me (I sure thought he did after that explosion, y'know?) but his fear of what other people will think is stronger than anything he feels for me. And that's kind of sad.

I notice my partner staring intently into a grisly bed where a man and woman – both naked – are lying, nearly indistinguishable from each other. There's something in his tri-colored eyes that has me really worried, and I don't think it's just that thing from the other night. He's a veteran Keeper – why are _these_ bodies upsetting him so much?

I tap him on the shoulder. "Rhyoh? What's wrong?"

He turns and for a moment he seems nervous, like I saw something I shouldn't have. Then it's gone, and he's giving me that sweet, gentle smile that always gets right under my skin. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm fine."

**RHYOH**

Sitting in the data room with the Commander, Dragen, Tieg, and Dee, I find that I'm actually glad for this murder case. It's complicated and has my mind jumping through hoops – and that keeps me from thinking too much about what Dee said. I… I always though he liked it when I came over. I mean, he tries to kiss me often enough – why isn't it okay that I go to him sometimes?

I know I'm lying to myself. I know exactly why it's not okay. I just… I guess I didn't expect him to say anything. I thought, since he was getting what he wanted, that he'd just put up with it and not ask for anything more. Stupid, huh? It's been a year – I know, by now, that it isn't just sex that he's wanting. He gets hit on all the time anyway – by other Keepers, by people who work with us, hell, by witnesses and suspects even. He always just smiles and says he's spoken for. Except, I never even had to speak. Something silent in me answered something in him the moment we touched… and all those things I've said to him – all those lies about not wanting him, not being gay – they don't change a thing. I'm still his… and I still keep breaking his heart.

"There were three victims," I hear Dragen say from far away. "The woman was Regina Luthron – she ran an import business out of Jagera. The man with her was Mikan Luthron, her husband. The third body hasn't been identified yet, but we think he might have been one of their workers. A substantial amount of Lucidica was also recovered from the scene." My ears perk up at the word: the same drug they found with the bodies of my parents! Dragen frowns. "So the lab's working things out now, but, well…"

Dee knows Dragen the best of all of us, and he leans in intently, obviously unsettled by the look on his face. "Well, what?"

"Well, the drugs are no biggie, but the higher-ups are interested in the weapons we recovered from the scene. They're sending in a Marshall."

**DEE**

I can't help scowling. I wish the Marshalls would stay in their jurisdiction, we could stay in ours, and the locals would stay in theirs. I mean, what's the point of all this hierarchy crap if people are just gonna get shuffled around anyway? "I wonder who the hell they're sending?" I mutter.

Suddenly, bright red nails are positioned on either side of my face. "Who else, silly boy?" asks a voice I had hoped never to hear again. Ack! Not her! Not the devil woman who got me in so much trouble with Rhyoh last time! I just know Rothschild is behind this… She pinches my cheek – hard! – and loses the sunglasses, dazzling everyone in sight with her sunrise-on-acid eye shadow and lipstick. She does have good legs and all, but that dress is just a little short if you know what I mean.

"Long time no see, ladies," she says, smiling. "You look like you're doing well."

"Denine Lawless?" Rhyoh manages beside me. He hasn't forgotten her either, I guess.

I look her over a second time, still surprised she's allowed to come to work like that. It must be good to be the boss. "I'm surprised none of your superiors have written you up on a dress-code violation yet," I tell her.

"Sunny as always, huh, Dee?" she asks with a voice that says she's not about to lose the upper hand. Her eyes flick over to my partner. "Bet I can guess why…" I ignore her, and Rhyoh's blushing. Normally I think it's cute, but today it's just pissing me off. Gods forbid anybody think he's gay! I guess that whole coming clear across the city and crawling into bed with another man thing doesn't count.

"I never pretended to be Mr. Happy," I tell the Marshall. "I'm not some friggin' boot-licker."

My pink-faced partner swoops in to try to divert a battle. Even if I got written up, I think a fight would make me feel better. No satisfaction for me, I guess. "Really, Denine, why are you here?"

"The firearms you found on the scene? Well, they're connected to a murder in Icehurst. "

"They were murder suspects?" Rhyoh seems surprised – like only good guys get shot up.

"Not suspects – they were definitely the killers. Plus, their activity is connected to a drug ring I've been investigating."

"Lucidica?" Rhyoh asks, out of nowhere.

Denine raises an eyebrow at him, searching his face. "Yes, actually. That good enough for ya?"

"So will the Marshall core be taking over this case?" Rhyoh asks. He sounds anxious.

"Possibly. For now, we're just working together."

"Barging in on our turf and stealing our cases," I goad. "How low can you guys go?"

"Aww, it's not the end of the world," she says, reaching out to pinch my cheek again. I dodge and she turns away to pull on her coat. "Well, I'll likely be seeing you all around! Take care!"

Wondering just how sour things were with Rhyoh to have Dee so snappish, Denine made her way down the hall.

"Commander Rothschild?" she called sweetly, eager to see her favorite 13-&-6 team member.

"Look Pamela," Allend said from around the corner with a tinge of nervousness. "I think you're a great girl, really, but I've got other plans tonight, so,"

And suddenly Denine was in his lap, a soft smile on her lips and eyes that were staring daggers. "Who's this Pamela?" she asked, voice sweet. He knew there was a razorblade hidden in the honeycomb of her tone – sweetness always cost with Denine - and he knew that he was caught. "And who do you have plans with tonight?"

Rothschild decided that honesty was the safest course. "Pamela's one of the Keepers on transportation duty, and Marianne, the young lady I'm meeting tonight, works in files management. Both of them are quite lovely."

Smoke drifted out of Denine's ears. "You're not even trying to hide your dalliances from me, how honorable," she said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Now, why do I still feel annoyed?" She gripped both sides of his face. "So out of the three of us ladies, who's the fairest, huh?"

"W-why you, of course!" Privately he thought that she looked a little scary right at that moment.

She smiled brilliantly, releasing him. "Oh, you're so honest, Allend! I forgive you!"

He smiled up at her. "So, since you're in Glass Court is it safe to assume that you're working on a case?"

She grew serious. "That's right. But there's something I wanted to run by you, first."

"Sure. What is it?"

"It's about Rhyoh."

And sitting in his lap, she told him the whole story.

**RHYOH**

Ever since the death of my parents – seeing their bodies stretched out on cold, metal tables – I've always been uncomfortable in coroner's labs, in forensics buildings. So I asked Dee to go with me, and regardless of the irritation he's doubtlessly feeling over my behavior lately, he didn't hesitate. Aside from stopping mid-pounce, Dee does pretty much everything I ask. I wish I could do even half as much for him. He doesn't ask, but I know what he wants.

"Haven't seen you fellows around here before. You from the 13-&-6?" says a slight man behind a huge desk. His face is warm and open, and he puts me immediately at ease.

"Yes," I tell him. "This is my partner Dee Lyghtner, and I'm Randor Clarion."

He removes his glasses. "I'm Jim Campbell. I run the forensics lab over here. Just call me Jim."

"We understand you have a possible lead concerning our case?" I ask him. Dee snorts at me softly, chiding me, I know, for being all business. He probably would have liked to chat with Jim for a minute, feel him out. We haven't met very many nice people since intruding on the 13-&-2, and Dee's sociable by nature.

"Ah, yes," says Jim. "Right here. These are two other murders that I think might be related to yours. "

"Both of these are connected to drug smuggling," I begin, looking at his notes.

"And they have the same M.O. as our case," Dee finishes for me.

"Right," Jim replies. "And I'm almost positive that I've seen the same kind of thing at two other stations. I'm guessing that the same person or group of people is responsible for all of these deaths."

Dee nods his agreement. "I think you're right."

I gather up the files, feeling closer to solving my parents' murder than I have in years. Trying to mask my eagerness, I ask Jim's permission to copy the files.

"Sure thing," he says, directing me to a copier. "Help yourself."

"Dee, I'm going to work on this a bit by myself. Why don't you try to find out a bit more about why are victims were in this area?"

Confusion shows in his eyes. "Yeah, sure, I can do that, but…"

I pat him on the shoulder. "Thanks! I'll call you around 8 and report in, okay?" I'm not giving him time to stop me or room to get in my way. Sorry partner, but this is something I need to do alone.

Unfortunately, he's not put off that easy. After all the time he's spent chasing me, you think I'd know that. "Hey, wait! Rhyoh, you hiding something from me?"

His hand is on the door, blocking my escape. I know I can't lie to him, so I just smile and tease. "Oh yeah, definitely. I've got tons and tons of secrets."

He's not amused. "Rhyoh, I'm serious!"

"Look, I'll check in with you at 8, okay? Talk to you then."

**DEE**

And just like that, he's out the door. "Damn." I shake my head. "He's hiding something." He had that haunted look in his eyes again, that look I don't understand, but that I see on my own face when my abandonment comes up, when someone makes a jab about me borrowing a last name.

"You two involved or something?" Jim asks me.

There's no disgust or anger in his face – I wish Rhyoh was here to see it. See, some people can be accepting! He must take my thoughtfulness for hesitation, 'cause he goes on to reassure me. "Don't worry, I like girls myself, but I'm not some homophobic loser, either."

"Thanks. Yeah, I'm bi, actually, but Rhyoh… well, he's…"

"If you ask me, folks like Rhyoh who are all cool and collected on the outside tend to be strong willed and more than a little turbulent on the inside."

I have to smile at his assessment. "Hey, you're pretty good, especially for just meeting him."

He shrugs modestly. "Observation's my job, after all. I might be going out on a limb here, but it's a lifebond, isn't it? You're more than eager to get the thing settled, but he's not. Am I right?"

I nod, miserably, not realizing how much it's been bothering me not to talk to anyone about this. I don't want to involve the guys at work because they know Rhyoh – and I'm not a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. I trust Jim, though, for some reason. "Uh-huh."

"So it's been a tug of war since he found out, huh? My guess would be you're on the losing side more often than not, huh?"

Man, you can say that again. I run a hand through my hair nervously. "Hey, uh, Jim, could you observe one more thing for me?"

"Sure, what's that?"

I jerk a thumb at myself. "Am I really that unreliable?"

My question sends Jim into hysterics – not really the answer I was looking for. But, when he's finally gained control of himself, he pats me on the back. "You're all right, Dee. I like you. Why don't we go out and have drinks sometime? You can tell me all about it."

Even though I'm a little annoyed at him for laughing at me, it's only a little, and it would be nice to have someone to talk to for a change. Mother has enough to worry about without me adding this to the pile… and some things you just don't want to tell a priestess, even a very liberal one. "I'd like that."

**RHYOH**

My reading glasses feel strange on my face… or maybe it's just me that feels strange. Complicated. Fucked up – to borrow one of Dee's choice phrases. My research has led me to seven murders identical to the ones we're investigating. Five of them involved art or antique dealers. And Lucidica was involved in every instance. And one of those times was…

I remember the floor of the medical center – it seemed endless. Elena tried to talk me out of viewing the bodies; she'd already told me that they could barely be told apart. I went to look anyway. A Keeper was there, along with local law officers. He asked me if my parents had ever mentioned anything strange about the goods they were bringing in – like that they were holding something for other people. Elena tried to keep him away from me, but I understood why he was asking. Elena had already told me about the Lucidica, but I learned, then, that the Keepers suspected my parents of running a long-term smuggling operation. I defended them, right to the Keeper's face, and vowed right then that I would become a Keeper myself, and avenge their deaths.

I sigh at the computer screen, surprised that the loss still feels so fresh. In the end, there wasn't enough evidence for the Keepers to decide whether my parents were guilty or innocent… but the family sure decided. Besides Elena, they all cut ties with me. No more birthday cards or Yuletide gifts – no nothing. Eventually, it stopped hurting, I stopped missing them. They're small people.

I scroll down the databank I've created. Out of the other cases following the same pattern as that of my parents', all of the victims were found guilty of smuggling. If I could only figure out who killed them… Suddenly, a picture catches my eye.

"That's…"

My wristband begins to beep.

**DEE**

Now, I know that Rhyoh gets absorbed in his work, but it's not like him to forget to call when he says he will. I'm relieved when he picks up my call. "Rhyoh, that you?"

There's a smile in his voice. "What were you gonna say if it wasn't, huh?"

I like it when he's lighthearted, but this time it makes me suspicious. Still, I play along. "Well I guess I would've skipped the phone-sex suggestion. You find anything out?"

"Just some data files that might have some relevance. Nothing big." Also not like him. Rhyoh's one of those people who refuses to accept dead ends – he just goes around. "Look, it's getting late," he tells me. "Let's talk about this tomorrow at the station, okay?"

I'm not satisfied, but I'm not sure how to keep him on the line. "Uh, okay. I guess you're right. Talk to you tomorrow then." I turn off my wristband and sit staring at it. "Something's not right," I say to myself. And things get even "wronger" when I hear the voice of Rothschild over my left shoulder.

"Got a minute?" he asks, his smile surprisingly warm and open. He must be glad that Denine's back in town.

"And what do you need it for, Sir?" I ask, taking out my frustration over Rhyoh on my old rival.

He keeps his calm, even seems amused. "Prickly as ever, eh? Are you alone right now?"

That question surprises me. It's usually Rhyoh he wants to separate from the herd, not me. "Uhm, yeah. Yes. I was just about to head home."

"Would you mind stepping into my office for a minute?"

It's like being asked if I'd mind being bitten by vipers, but he is the boss – and I would like to keep my job. "After you, sir."Inside of his office, he comes right to the point, and I find myself gaping.

"You want to take Rhyoh off the case?" I repeat, dumbfounded. Rhyoh's such a good Keeper – I hope I haven't done anything to mess things up for him. I'm not the best partner…

"Yes. I assume you know about Rhyoh's parents?"

"Just that they passed away a few years ago. An accident, I think."

Rothschild shakes his head. "Not exactly. They were murdered, and the circumstances mirror your current case."

Something inside of my mind shatters, and splinters of glass go flying everywhere. It hurts… He never told me. Never told me that his parents were killed, that _that's _the reason he became a Keeper. He doesn't trust me… doesn't love me… you'd tell a person you cared for…

And then all thoughts of myself leave my mind. His parents were killed. He lost everyone, and not just in an accident. _Oh Rhyoh…_

The Lt. Commander is talking again. "There's a good chance that the same person or people committed both crimes. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary about Rhyoh lately?"

His face appears in my mind – that gentle, teasing smile he's been wearing. He's been using it to throw me off track! "He's been acting like he's been hiding something from me," I admit to the Lt. Commander. "But I didn't think it was anything this serious, y'know?"

Rothschild nods. "I knew you'd be watching out for him." I wonder what it costs him to admit that. "He may have figured something out, or even started his own investigation. I want you to bring him here when he shows up tomorrow."

I shake my head at him, wondering at his logic. "Do you really think that telling him to stop will help? I mean, c'mon. This is about his _parents_." I know nothing of my own parents, not even down to what physical characteristics they gave me, but if I did, and was in Rhyoh's shoes…

"That's why I wanted to talk to you first," Rothschild says, surprising me again.

"What?"

He smiles at me, and in that smile I see evidence of a truce, at least a temporary one. "For once, we're in agreement, Dee. I doubt Rhyoh will give up this case – certainly not without a fight. Even if he says he will, he's likely to keep working on it outside of the station on his own time. He may do something dangerous or rash – _and I'm asking __**you **__to stop him when he does!"_

His commanding tone fails to impress me. I stand and cross the office to the door. "Like you had to ask me to do that."

Denine entered the Lt. Commander's office through another door as Dee disappeared. She'd heard the entire conversation.

"Do you think Dee'll be all right? Rhyoh can be pretty stubborn when he wants to be." And, in her opinion, Rhyoh was already giving Dee a sound emotional thrashing, denying what was (from what she could see) clearly a lifebond. The dark-haired Keeper hadn't had nearly such defeated eyes the last time they'd crossed paths.

"If Dee can't do it, I doubt there's anyone else who can."

Her shock was unfeigned. "Did Allend Rothschild just say that? I can't believe it. I would have expected you to say what Dee couldn't do, you easily could."

He grinned. "Well, I'm not completely stupid." His eyes told her that he had seen evidence of the bond as well. He wasn't a man to fight a losing battle.

She giggled, thinking him romantic. "You're very kind."

"Nah, I think I just know that Rhyoh could only fall for someone with a hot-headed, straight-charging, unyielding foolish personality. In fact, not just a foolish personality – but a total fool." He might be above fighting a fight he could not win, but throwing a jab in here or there, well, that was something else again.

"It sounds like you're describing some kind of male fighting animal – a bull or a buck or something. But then again, you could just be talking about Dee, huh?"

He smiled again. "We seem to be on the same page, Marshall."

**RHYOH**

Dee surprised me when he met me at the door to the station. He's usually at least ten minutes late, even when we aren't on first shift. Also, his expression is closed, unreadable. Dee only goes blank like that when he's in really significant pain. Is it over me? Over what he said? I can't ask him here in the hallway with people streaming around.

"Hey, the second meeting room's open. I thought we could go over some things from yesterday," I offer, hoping to get him alone, maybe apologize. I'd say almost anything to stop him from looking like that.

"Sure, but there's somewhere we need to stop by first."

His voice is even strange! Hard-edged but… strangled? Like there's something he's trying to talk around that's making it hard for him to speak or even breathe. Still, I follow him – right to the guest room the Lt. Commander is using as a temporary office. Dee knocks a few times before Rothschild answers. For the life of me, I can't imagine what would cause Dee to willingly seek out the Lt Commander's office.

Standing in the doorway I look to him for reassurance, but his face is still empty. "Dee?"

"Detective Clarion?" Rothschild asks. His face is almost a mirror of Dee's – he's not looking me over like he usually does, or smiling that faintly amused smile that says I'll belong to him one day.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I'll come right to the point. As of right now, I'm dropping both you and Keeper Lyghtner from this case."

For a moment, I can't see. The room is black and empty and I'm filled up inside with screams, though nothing comes out. Dee reaches out a hand to steady me, but I'm already across the room in front of Allend's desk, hands planted on either side. "_What_!?" I struggle to breathe, to hold back tears of frustration, of rage. "Sir, you can't do that!"

"You of all people should know why it's necessary," he says calmly. "Even if it's indirectly, your family's still involved."

_He knows. He knows. _"H-how?"

Furious, I spin to look at the only other person in the room – Denine Lawless. First, she paired up with Dee to separate us so the Lt. Commander could have his "chance" with me. Then she kissed Dee and made me think he'd been playing with me. But neither of those things even compares to this betrayal.

Her face is grim and setting, meeting me glare for glare. "Yes, that's right. I told him. I stumbled across your parents' case when I was investigating one of my own. Look Rhyoh," she tries to reason with me, "it's not like I don't understand how you feel. But look at you, you're already a total mess. I can't have someone emotionally tied to the case working on it. It could jeopardize everything."

"But Denine," I protest, ready to list my achievements, my qualifications. I'd never do it otherwise, but I _can't_ be dropped from this case. I just can't!

"Deal with it, Rhyoh," says the Lt. Commander. It's a united front. I can't win. Even Dee is on it!

"I can do this, Commander!" I yell, hating myself for falling apart like this in front of everyone.

"You're dismissed, Rhyoh," he says, turning his eyes.

"Commander!"

"Rhyoh, these are the people who killed your parents, who messed you up so badly that you transferred. No."

"This is why I became a Keeper!"

Dee grabs my shoulder. "Stop it, Rhyoh."

I look into his eyes for a moment, past his shields, past everything. He _agrees _with them! With the Lt. Commander and Denine! _He _thinks I can't do it either! "Dee…" I know pleading with him won't work. In that moment, I hate him. I spin and run from the room.

"Rhyoh! Wait!"

I expected the outcry from Dee, but I forgot how fast he is – how long his damn legs are! He's only a few feet behind me, and only the crowds at the Airtrainne station keep him from catching up to me right then. I don't want to ever see him again, to ever be touched by him again.

He has to take a later trainne than me – he's still on the landing platform when mine pulls away. I can see his eyes watching us lift off, but I don't let the look in his eyes hurt me. He's done that enough for today.

The door of my apartment practically snaps off the hinges from the force I use on it. Bikky pokes his head out timidly, dinner dishes in hand. "I didn't think you'd be home yet," he says.

"Well I guess my plans got changed, didn't they?" I snap, striding past him. I've never been cruel to Bikky, and he recoils, maybe hearing something of his father in my tone. I make it to the bedroom door and whirl on my foster son. "Bikky, Dee'll probably stop by today. Don't let him in – got it!?"

"Ehh?" Confusion shows in his eyes. As much as he pretends not to like Dee, he's been as much a part of Bikky's life as I have. We'll both have to learn to do without, I guess. "Uh-okay," Bikky stammers as I slam a second door, rattling wall hangings all over the place.

"What the heck?" I hear Bikky wondering aloud outside the door. "Wonder what the perv's done this time…"

**DEE**

I sound like a full out percussion section when I get to Rhyoh's door. Winded and angry, I pound the hell out of the wooden frame, rattling the handle at intervals, even though I know he's locked me out. Even with his shields up, I know he's in there, and I ain't leaving!

"Rhyoh!? Rhyoh! Open this door!!"

"Sorry Dee," the brat's voice floats through the door. "He's here but he told me not to let you in."

_WHAT!?? _ He can frickin' come over, climb in my bed, drive me crazy, then go to sleep – but he stations a monkey brat between us at a time like this!?? I don't have the time or the inclination to reason with anyone right now – especially not a house ape. Whining it is, then. "C'mon, Bikky. Let me in, okay?"

"Nope," he replies, and I can almost see the grin on his face. "No can do. No way. No how."

"Bikky, if you don't open this door, I'll bust your ass all the way to the 'Brinth!"

He just laughs. "Rhyoh told me not to let you in and as a good little boy I need to do exactly as he says."

It just burns me to know how much he's enjoying this… And damn Rhyoh anyway for making a teenager fight his battles! Coward!

"Heya, what's going on here?" Cal asks from behind my shoulder.

And suddenly I have an idea. A very evil idea. A terrible, awful, delicious idea. Lucky, lucky day! "All right Bikky," I say in my most threatening tone. "You've left me no choice. So help me, if you don't open this door I will violate Cal right here as we speak!" Pretty low, it's true, but I have to get to Rhyoh.

Cal's especially helpful, too, screaming, "What are you doing to me!? Help!"

"Get the hell away from her you stinking bisexual pedophile!" Bikky screams, rocketing out of the door. "I haven't even gotten that far!"

As the door swings open, I saunter in, bopping him on the head for good measure. "Thanks for opening the door, dude. Yeah, I know, adults use dirty tactics." So I left Cal upset that I'd mussed her hair and Bikky is in awe that someone could get so upset over messy hair in the first place. Welcome to the wacky world of chicks, dude. Of course, things couldn't just go smoothly from here. Rhyoh's got his bedroom door locked too.

"Damn it, Rhyoh, would you at least hear me out!?" I can't believe that look he gave me at the station – he looked like a cornered animal about to bite. His shields went to pieces (he's not good at holding them up under extreme emotion, or surprise) and I could tell that he didn't trust me, that he thought I'd delivered him to Allend and Denine.

"There's nothing to talk about!" he screams from behind the door. "Now get the hell out of here and go home!"

"There's lots to talk about!" I counter. "Open up, damn it!"

"Shut up, you traitor!"

Traitor? Damn that stings! Does he really think I'd do anything to hurt him? Does he still not know I'm in love with him after all this time? Or is he just _that_ hurt, _that _angry?

"I expected you of all people to understand!" he screams. I can hear the pain in his voice – I can _feel _his pain in my skin. Oh Rhyoh… But I'm angry now, too. Angry that he doesn't trust me, angry that he'd think that I don't care for him any better than this.

I slam my booted foot into the door, leaving a mark. "You're the one who doesn't understand, idiot!"

Bikky and Cal are behind me now, confused by Rhyoh's behavior and probably a little scared over all of our yelling. Rhyoh'd never believe it, but I feel guilty for exposing them to this kind of environment again. They got enough of that at the Curved Horn. Hmm, maybe it's time for some more subtle tactics.

Giving Biks a wink, I use my most commanding tone. "Bikky, get your stuff together."

"Huh? Why would I do that!?" he's using his street-tough voice, playing it up. He'll go along with me if it's for Rhyoh – that much is good.

"Why do you even have to ask? You're gonna come with me. You stay with him and you're going to end up just as twisted and broken as he is!" This is really cruel of me – making him out to be an unfit parent when this whole thing is over family and parents as it is, but I don't know any other way to get through to him. "Come with me, and I promise I'll smack you up now and then to keep you on the straight and narrow."

Bikky sticks his tongue out at me and whispers to Cal, "If I went with him, I'd end up _way _twisted if you know what I mean."

"You want to say goodbye you better say it now, Mr. I'm-a-twisted-ass-selfish-idiot!" I yell at Rhyoh's door.

As expected, the lock clicks and the door flies open, nearly hitting me in the head. "You dick!" he rages. "This has absolutely nothing to do with Bikky! You leave him out of it! And you have no right to…" he trails off, realizing that we're eye to eye, face to face. He doesn't have the door to protect him anymore and he can't act like he doesn't feel how much I care for him. I'm not shielding, and he staggers a little, hit by my emotions like a stack of bricks. We're face to face and he has nowhere to go, nowhere to run.

Without turning, I tell Bikky and Cal to go play for awhile, hoping they can hear in my voice that things are going to be okay. To Rhyoh I say only, "Sit down."

**RHYOH**

Damn him! I had shields up! How did he do that? How did he play me? He knew exactly which buttons to push, knew exactly how I'd react. And from the meek way Cal and Bikky retreated, he had them in on it! And throwing his emotions at me like that so that I felt his pain, felt how much he wanted to comfort me… it took all of the fight out of me right there. My eyes are lowered – hurting – as I take a seat beside him on my bed. I decide to speak first; I owe him that much.

"Did the Lt. Commander tell you about my parents?"

Dee nods, his expression as pained as mine. I know that he wishes I could have told him myself. "Yeah. He told me to stop you from doing anything crazy."

Oh. So he is in on it. "So that's why you're here," I say softly.

"Hell, no." There's anger in his tone, just a hint; he's frustrated because after all this time that I don't know him better than that.

"What?"

"I came to hear your side of the story. But first, I want to know why you said what you said – about expecting me to understand."

"Because… because," I try to lie about it. They were words said in anger – there was no reason behind them. "I thought if you knew the truth, then you'd understand."

Dee shakes his head, his dark bangs falling into his eyes, the violet streaks in them catching the light. "Don't lie to me. If you really thought that, you wouldn't have tried to hide it from me in the first place." In my mind, I hear him asking: _Why don't you trust me?_

He always breaks me so easily! "I-I'm sorry. Dee… I never meant to hurt you."

He surprises me by flicking a finger against my skull. "Hey now," he says gently, "I'm not blaming you for anything." Then his face changes, becomes vulnerable, then embarrassed of that same weakness. "But I, uh, I was pretty depressed that you didn't think I was reliable or trustworthy enough to tell about your parents. Though, I guess that type of thing doesn't come up in everyday conversation either." He shrugs. "I guess I can't blame you even if I wanted to, huh?"

"Dee, I was planning to tell you… it's just the case…" I don't want him to think I don't trust him. Aside from Bikky and Cal, he's the only thing I do trust.

"It's all right."

"I never thought I could hurt you," I tell him, eyes lowered, "not trusting."

His fingers lift my chin, hold my face up. "What do you think this has all been about, Rhyoh?" And in his green eyes, I see something I thought I lost so long ago, something familiar… like love. Then he lets me go, switching gears, but the light stays in his eyes. "So fill me in. How far have you gotten?"

"Huh?"

"I know you're planning on continuing your investigation. I'll help you, but you've got to fill me in first."

"Dee, I can't let you do that. You'll get in trouble too." Talk about role reversals! Dee's usually the one getting me in trouble.

"Don't worry about me. Rothschild already knows you're going to try something stupid on your own. This way, I'll be there to stop you if you do. You can whine, kick, and scream as much as you want, but I'm still going to be there. Got it?" He winks. "So what do you say, we on?"

I'm staring at him dumbfounded, amazed that anyone would give so much, would do so much – for me. After all my mixed signals and confusion and anger, even, he's still here for me – solid, dependable, faithful. Isn't that the kind of thing I should want in a partner – and not just a work one?

"Dee… thank,"

Before I can finish, he leans in and kisses me softly on the center of my mouth. Then his arms are around me, laying me down. He brushes his cheek against mine. "Now, let's make this a real thank you."

Corny, sure, but the heat of his mouth prevents me from teasing him. He's wearing only a soft t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and I can see the planes of his chest, his abdomen. Looking at him stretched out over me, I can't help but feel fluttering, stirrings, in my own lower body.

And then Dee's quick, deft fingers are working on my zipper! Hey! I didn't okay this! The kids are in the next room for crying out loud. I try to protest, but it comes out all muffled. He has one hand on my stomach, the other coming closer and closer to…

"Dee! What are you doing! Stop it, Dee!"

"Come on, dude. A little feel here and there never hurt anyone."

Pretty sound logic for Dee, but I can't let him do this to me now. If I do, I know what will happen… and I'm not ready yet! "Dee, if you don't stop, so help me…"

Well, can't say I didn't warn him. "Bikky!!!"

Armed with proper Dee-slaying accessories (pillows) Bikky and Cal charge on. Soon feathers are flying, and I can discreetly cover myself back up. Even engaged in full-out pillow warfare, Dee has time to shoot me a look.

**DEE – next week **

"Leskar?" I ask my partner. The name had come up on our first investigation of the Curved Horn, but there hadn't been enough evidence to tie Leskar to the drugs that were being smuggled into the establishment. Actually, Leskar's name came up quite frequently in drug cases, but he always managed to slither away at the last minute.

"That's right," Rhyoh says, "He and two others were held under suspicion for involvement in my parents' murder." I can tell the words hurt him. He's spent so long with this bottled up… I hope this investigation will bring him some peace. "The other two were Snade Horson and Meril Frye."

"Horson? Wasn't Regina Luthron a Horson before she got married?"

"Her brother," Rhyoh explains.

"So we're going to go talk to these low-lifes, huh?"

"I figure it's our best bet."

As he gathers up his things, wristband, weapon, addresses, I can't help but watch him, amazed that there can be so much strength and fragile beauty in one person, so much gentleness, and so much pain. I think of Jim Campbell's assessment of him: cool and strong exterior, turbulent soul. At least now I can shift some of the blame for that turbulence off of myself and my attempts at getting him into bed.

"Hey Rhyoh, the Lt. Commander said these people messed you up. What did he mean?"

Instantly, his defenses are at full strength again, and his face is contorted in pain. Then he barks a sharp laugh, mostly directed at himself, I think. "Dee Lyghtner… sometimes I forget how good of a Keeper you are."

I smile under his eyes. "Thanks, dude, but flattery isn't gonna throw me off the trail. What happened? C'mon, you ought to know you can trust me."

He nods and sits back down at the meeting room table. "I know I can trust you, Dee. It's… it's just not something I ever talked about with anyone." Startling me, he reaches out and traces the line of my cheek. The skin goes warm under his touch. "But I guess you're not like everyone else, huh?" I love it when he's brave enough to touch me, give a little of himself.

"N-no..." I say breathily, unsteadily.

He lays his hand back on the table, and doesn't flinch when I cover it with one of mine. "When I first graduated the Academy, I went out on my own. My partner was a good guy, but older, and he tended to fall asleep about mid-shift at night. I had found a guy that I thought could lead me to my parents' killers. I followed him, but three other members of the organization he belonged to – some drug ring or another – were following too. They killed him."

My hand tightens over his. "That's not all, though, huh?"

"No." His voice is unsteady and I realize how much it's taking for him to tell this. It reminds me of – _that _– time on Stlenskoe, when I… when I got to touch him. He was just as weak then, just as afraid. But he trusted me then, too. "It was on Nadj," he continues softly, his other hand going to the necklace I gave him. "Back home. At a river above a place called Scarlet Stone. They found me, the three of them. Beat me. They – they were magic users, Dee."

Oh my god. That's why… that's why… He must see the shock, the understanding in my face, because he nods as if to say, "You see?"

"That – that…" my mouth is dry and it's hard to speak. "That's why you were so afraid of me… uh, when," It's the closest we've ever come to talking about it. I promised I wouldn't, after all.

"Yes. I was afraid of your magic because of what they did to me. I'm sorry, Dee."

I flick him again, mostly to keep from getting choked up myself. "Don't be sorry, whelp. I just wish I would have known. I wouldn't have pushed you so hard."

He giggles. "I don't know if I believe that or not, Dee Lyghtner."

I pretend to look offended. "Oh, c'mon. I can be chivalrous when I want to be!" All those times I let him get away after he got me all revved up, after all. I can tell he's thinking about Stelnskoe.

"I know you can, Dee." Standing, he comes to me and hugs me, rests his head on my shoulder. "Thanks, partner."

I hold back with trembling fingers, amazed. I want to return the thanks, to thank him for opening up to me, showing me part of his life, touching me… "No problem," I say at last. "No problem at all."

A few minutes later, we separate – him to interview Meril, me to interview Snade. "I won't do anything stupid," he tells me. "I promise."

**RHYOH**

Dee's interview with Snade turned up nothing… as Snade's been dead for over a year. I guess I should feel good about it, but I don't. Talking to Meril turned up about nothing as well, but he was jittery throughout the entire conversation. Something tells me that he's still in contact with Leskar. That's what I tell Dee when he contacts me on my wristband and he agrees that it sounds suspicious.

"He just called a transport," I tell my partner, seeing Meril enter a shuttle. "I'm gonna follow him."

"Wait!" Dee says. "Don't do anything until I get there!"

I shake my head. "Dee… don't start panicking. I'm sure he's just doing some grocery shopping or something. I'm probably just jumping at shadows." What am I doing? I just told him my story, told him I'd let him watch my back… and now I'm running from him? Well, he should understand! He did the same thing when Mother was hurt – why should he expect any more of me? He should know this is something I have to do by myself. "Sorry, Dee. I'll call you later."

**DEE**

Sorry? That's all he's got for me after all we've been through!? After all we've been through… isn't that what he said to me when he got between me and the guy who hurt Mother? I shake my head, angry at him, but feeling like a hypocrite for it too. I did the same thing to him, after all. But he didn't just say "well, that's what Dee feels he needs to do" and go home. He came after me. Stuck by me. I start the car.

"HQ this is car 21, Dee Lyghtner."

"What do you need, Keeper?"

"I need to get the location of one of our vehicles." Thank goodness for Big Brother, huh? Sometimes all this security crap can be way useful!

"No problem. Which one is it?"

"Car 12. I'll need someone to track it – it's on the move."

"Got it. Give us just a second."

Damn you, Rhyoh. You think you're going to get away from your soulmate by turning off your wristband? I don't think so!

**RHYOH**

For ten minutes I've been sitting outside an alley, engine cut. I wonder who Meril's waiting for anyway? As he stands smoking, a dark car pulls up. Two men get out, dressed identically: dark sunglasses, long coats, gloves. Protectors, I know. That means there's someone important still inside the car.

I'd know that face anywhere. It's a face from my nightmares. Funny, that someone so unquestionably evil could still look so handsome, so healthy. Leskar Grant is a tall man, broad shouldered, not overly muscled but probably strong. He has intelligent eyes, shrewd and blue, and hard, cold face. His blond hair is worn long, falling over his face. His clothes rival Rothschild's. I hate him.

"Long time, eh Leskar?" Meril asks, apparently amused that he's been able to summon someone so high up in the organization.

"What the hell do you want, Meril?"

"To catch up on old times," the thug says sweetly. "Remember a little job we did, me, you, and Snade? About seven years ago?"

Leskar is all business. "Go on."

Seven years ago? His words slice through me. Could he be referring to… no. It can't be.

"We were supposed to get rid of some third party carriers who were smuggling drugs in through the ports. The goods were in a red art box. We were supposed to take out the husband and wife with the box – while they were still in space. We were supposed to leave the drugs. But something went wrong."

Sweat beads around my brow. Rain has begun to fall in the alley, a soft shushing sound over their words. I slink past my tires and brace myself on the alley wall.

"Snade confirmed the car, but it was the wrong one. We killed outsiders. If they were alive, we were supposed to finish them off. Turns out, they picked up the wrong box at customs, is all. The Keepers got the goods and Snade… well, you know what happened to him."

"I was there, Meril," Leskar says impatiently. "What are you getting at?"

"At the med center, we saw the stiff's son, right?"

Something in Leskar's voice changes. "That we did."

Meril smiles. "Well, that same kid went and made himself a Keeper. Came around, asking me questions about my sister today."

Leskar takes a step forward, towering over his toady. "You've told me a nice story, but I still don't see the point. Why did you call me here?"

"Well, seems to me that that Keeper might be trying to avenge his parents, don't you think?"

My heart beats so loudly that I'm certain they can hear it. How can he have guessed?

"The timing's just a little too perfect is all," Merril says.

"Oh?" Leskar could be at a tea party discussing petit fours for all the concern he's showing. His face is unreadable, untouched and his eyes are as cold as a lunar eclipse.

"What do you suppose that Keeper'd do if I came clean about the case, hey? I'd probably get a light sentence for my cooperation, but you… well…" he lets the word hang.

"So what do you want?"

"Me, I'm destined to end my life as a nobody," Meril says, enjoying the game. "You'll rise to the top, take the boss's place, but me… I don't have what it takes. And maybe I'm a little strapped for funds, hmmm?"

"And how much might you be needing?"

"A hundred grand. Should be pocket change for the likes of you."

Leskar's hand goes to his coat as though he's considering it. "Sounds a little steep," he muses, removing a gun. "How about a little discount?"

And suddenly Meril's babbling, stumbling, tripping over his feet. "Hey man, wait, you know I was just kidding,"

Leskar remains untouched. "I'm sorry, Meril. But you've just proven yourself a little more annoying than I need you to be."

The bullet takes him in the chest. No!

Suddenly my own gun's in my hand. "Freeze!" I shout at Leskar. "Hold it right there!"

A faint smile tugs at his mouth and he motions to his men. "Stay back."

"But…"

"Trust me. Put your gun away."

I move toward Meril, gun still drawn. He's gone, no pulse.

"I've seen you before, haven't I?" Leskar asks me, looking down on me with his frozen eyes. "Ah, I know. You must be the one Meril was talking about. You've grown quite a bit. I almost didn't recognize you. Followed him, did you? Clever."

"You're under arrest for murder," I tell him.

"The hell we are!" one of his guards cries, stepping forward. Leskar motions him back. "Why don't you two go wait in the car?" They do as he says, but grudgingly.

"Did you know, boy, that if your aunt hadn't showed up as quick as she did, I would have added you to our slave ring? You were a pretty thing, even then. You would have brought the family a lot of money."

I can't believe he's taunting me, his sickening words worming their way into the soft flesh of my ears.

"I believe pleasure slavery would have suited you… but then, we wouldn't be having this meeting now, would we?"

"What!?" I cry, outraged, shaking.

"I doubt you have the courage to send me anywhere but home, kid. Even if Meril were alive, it wouldn't make any difference. My boss has money and connections enough to keep you from ever getting the vengeance you want. And he needs me." He smiles – a faint, mocking smile. "So it would probably really be best for you if you shot me now."

I can't believe it! He's giving me permission to do the one thing I've always wanted to do – he's delivering himself into my hands. "What did you say?"

"Kill me. It's what you came here to do. Shoot me, and I'll be gone. You'll have your revenge. But if you arrest me," that smile again, "I'll live."

**DEE**

My car comes screaming into the alley that HQ directed me to, tires screeching on the wet stone. The rain is pouring as I get out of the car, searching for Rhyoh. Oh gods… Rhyoh!! His gun is drawn, leveled at a man in a long coat.

"Well? What's the matter?" I can hear the other man's voice echoing off the wet stone walls, the building sides. He's goading Rhyoh, taunting him – knowing that one bullet will end everything for him forever. "Don't be shy. Shoot me. You know what we did. Meril was telling the truth. We killed your parents!"

The scream that tears out of my partner is like nothing I've ever heard. His shields don't just shatter – they explode – and his howling is inside my head as well as in the alley around me. The raw pain in him… the horror… the rage… it almost puts me on my knees. Somehow, I still get behind Leskar, gun drawn.

"Rhyoh!!!"

He hears the click of my gun being readied. "Dee…" Shock touches him.

"Ah," says Leskar, master of all situations. "This must be your partner. Might I ask why you have a gun to my head?" He opens his hands. "I'm unarmed."

"Hmm," I say, rain streaming down my face, tension boiling through me. "Could be because I plan to blow a big fucking hole in your head before Rhyoh gets to you first."

"Dee…" Rhyoh says again, desperate, pleading – but I don't know for what.

"My, my." Leskar smiles a sinister snake-curving smile. "So you're willing to take the murder rap for your partner. That's just beautiful. I had no idea that there were any gay Keepers."

"Bi," I correct automatically, caught up in the surreal nature of the moment. "And a firm believer in equal opportunity, but that's not really the point, now is it?"

"You're looking at murder and you've still got the balls to make a joke? I like that."

His words sear through me – they're so close to what that goon said when Alberich… "Forgive me for not being flattered. Now get the hell out of here before I pull this trigger."

"Ah, no one's going to shoot me after all? Well, too bad Mr. Clarion. I hope we meet again." And the car is gone, and Leskar with it.

Behind me, my partner collapses, going to his knees in a puddle.

I kneel in front of him, hand reaching out to steady him. "Rhyoh… you all right?"

"They…"

"Didn't I tell you not to make a move without me? Don't you listen to a damn thing I say?" I'm not really angry at him, relieved that he's in once piece, really.

"They did it. My mom and dad – they killed them."

"What? Holy shit, Rhyoh, I…" What are the proper words for this?

"That's what they said. A mistake. They said it was a mistake." His hands are clenched in the wet fabric of my shirt, clinging to me. I've never seen anyone so hurt… he's speaking to me with a ghost's voice. "They got the wrong people." Then suddenly he rears back, fire in his eyes. "He told me to shoot! He told me to kill him! Leskar said it was okay to kill him! But I couldn't! I couldn't do it! Why!?"

Tears are streaming down his face and his fists are pummeling against my chest. I try to get my arms around him, to pull him close to me. "Rhyoh, it's all right. That's how it should have been. You're not the type to kill someone in cold blood."

Sobs shake shim; it feels like he's coming apart under my hands. "But god damn it!" he cries to the sky, the alley, the rain, "Why couldn't I?"

I just hold him as the sky falls down on us, softly stroking his damp hair. "Rhyoh…"

**DEE**

After the other Keepers have been called to the crime scene and Meril has been taken care of, our statements taken (with lots omitted, of course) I take Rhyoh back to my place. I don't feel safe leaving him on his own. Of course, my usual reckless mismanagement of money has left me a little short, so I've been leaving the heat off during the day – and the place is _cold! _

"Hoo-wah! It's chilly!" I say as the door creaks open. It doesn't help that we're both soaked to the skin from our time in the alley. And with Rhyoh as upset as he is the last thing he needs is to come down sick. "Why don't you go warm up?" I ask him. He's hesitating in the doorway, like he doesn't know where he is. Man, he knows how to worry me! "Get a shower or something. I'll lend you some of my stuff to wear." The thought of him in my clothes makes me smile briefly: I'm taller than he is, so my stuff is always dragging past his fingers and past his ankles. Plus, I just like seeing him in something of mine. He closes the door finally, eyes still distant and averted. I find myself talking juts to alleviate the silence. "And if you're going to stay tonight, call Bikky and give him a head's up. I don't want him to worry." Just those words should show you how worried I am… being concerned over monkey brats! What's next? Rhyoh's still not speaking… I wonder if he's in shock? "Let me get you a towel," I say, continuing my diatribe. "I think there's one in this drawer." None of my laundry has a permanent address – I throw it wherever it will fit. I'm sure I have socks and boxers floating around that I haven't seen in ages. I turn, almost bumping into Rhyoh. "Here you go. I'll bring you a change of clothes la…"

His head is resting against my chest, his hands clinging to either side of my shirt. His hair is damp and cool against my skin, but his breath is warm. "Dee, I…"

"What? I can't hear you, bud. Are you all right?" It's clear that he's not, but I don't know what else to say. Maybe if I ask him, he'll open up.

"I want to stay tonight. I want to stay with you."

I've always wanted to hear him say those words, but I know he doesn't mean them like I'd like him to. He's just hurt. I try to disentangle myself. "Okay, uh, why don't you give Bikky a call and, hey!" He's unbuttoned my shirt completely now, and pulled me in tight against him until are hips are touching. I've only been this close to him one other time, and just like then, I can feel his need.

"Rhyoh?" I try to ask, to make sure this is okay, but he pulls my head down and forces his tongue inside my mouth. His body is so cold against mine but his mouth is hot… and I'm moaning into it, wrapping my arms around him.

He continues to devour me with kisses as warning bells sound in my head. This isn't like Rhyoh – not my Rhyoh anyway. I manage to get a hand between us and catch his chin, force him back. "R-Rhyoh, wait. Hold up. What's the matter? You're acting weird." _You're acting like you want me…_

"Go ahead," he says without looking me in the eyes. "Do it. I don't mind, you know. If you did it to me now I wouldn't, well I wouldn't care at all…"

Just what every lover wants to hear, huh? I wouldn't care… My eyes widen in shock, then narrow, and my hands clench into fists at my sides. I laugh once at myself, a short, painful sound, understanding. "Heh." The force of the blow makes my shirt flare open around me and there's an audible – crack! – as my fist connects with his cheek.

His head is turned away, the cheek glowing red.

"Asshole. Didn't I tell you before never to patronize me?"

"Dee?" he asks, helplessly.

I can't be taken in by the lost tone in his voice, the bewildered look in his eyes. I throw the towel at him. "Now get in that fucking shower and cool your head down! Stop acting like a whore when you're not one."

When he's gone, the shower hissing, I sink to the floor with my head in my hands. It took everything in me to hit him and leave a mark that will stay. He doesn't want me.

**RHYOH**

His words echo in my mind as the shower lifts the cold from my skin. Stunned, disbelieving that I'd hurt him so much after all he's done for me, I whap my head against the shower tile. How could I? I sigh. "I really messed that up." I did want him… but I should have known that Dee would see through me. More than him I wanted comfort. I wanted to forget Leskar, forget his words about my family. Dee's eyes, his kisses, always seem to swallow up everything I am and I knew I could get lost in his body. I tried to use him, again.

I step timidly into the bedroom, wondering if things between us will ever be okay again. He's turned away from me, reading, but I can see the tension in the lines of his back. "I borrowed your phone," I say meekly. Bikky was too engrossed in the latest vid-game to be too worried about us.

He's still hurting. "That's nice."

"Dee, I, uh,"

He turns over on his side and pats the bed. "Get in here. You'll catch your death standing on that cold floor."

"O-okay." Well that's promising. He's not throwing me out of the apartment. I lay on my back, away from him. He's on his stomach, facing the wall. "Dee… are you mad at me?" Childish, huh? But I can't think of how else to start.

He lifts his head, glaring at me.

I swallow hard. "Uhhm, that looks like a yes to me."

He closes his eyes in pain. "Look, I'm not a kid, so I'm really trying to hold back here." Then his quiet pain turns to anger, and he's straddling at me, yelling into my face. "Look, I've said it a million different times in a million different ways! I'm in love with you, dumbass! It's not like I can just do it with anyone! The only person who would make me happy is you! And yet…"

He rolls off of me, and turns away. "And yet? What were you going to say?"

Slowly, haltingly, he begins to educate me on his pain. "I've tried not to push. Tried not to force you to acknowledge what we both already know." He swallows hard and I can feel him trembling. "But you can't tempt me. You can't keep offering what you don't want to give." He turns to look at me. "Do you know what kind of person I would have been if I had used this to get into your pants?"

"You wouldn't have. You're much more noble."

Suddenly, he's over top of me again, his dark hair hanging down, his mouth only bare inches from mine. "Then again, let's say you found yourself enlightened about us and you decided that you really did want to do it. Then I'd be all for it of course." This sounds much more like the Dee I know – covering all of his bases. "But I told you before that I won't wait for you forever." There's pain in his green eyes, and a desperate kind of hunger. "And Rhyoh, and I know some terrible things have happened to you – with your parents, with chasing their killers – but you can't keep using them as walls to hide behind. Not when it comes to me."

Anger flares in my brain, but burns out quickly. I can't really be angry at him for recognizing my tactics. All that pain and fear I put between us… I know he just wants to make it stop. Instead, I hurt him and make it his pain. "I – I…" I know I've been hurting him. I know he deserves more from me than mixed signals and stolen moments. Steeling myself, I prepare to give him something he can hold on to. "I promise to think about us," I say bravely, clearly.

It hurts me, terribly, when I see nothing of hope in his eyes or his expression. But then, he's used to hot and cold from me and I can't blame him for losing faith. I run my fingers down the side of his face feeling, in that touch, everything he is to me: partner, best friend… someone I desire… someone I share a lifebond with. The last is the hardest to admit and I wonder, if the bond is this hard for me to deny – how hard must it be on Dee? He has no reservations. He knows what he wants, but he's letting me take my own time and make my own decision. I called him noble a few minutes ago, I guess I didn't realize how well that fits.

"I'll think about us, Dee," I repeat, hoping to reach him. "I promise I will." I wish I could make a promise with my body as easily as I made one with my lips, but I know how much it hurt him when I asked him to… to give himself up for me. Gods, I can't blame him for not trusting, for hurting. I've done so much to hurt him – and all because I can't just come clean with myself and admit who I am and what I feel. Slowly, I lower my shields, letting him feel my pain, my confusion. Even in this way, we echo each other; my pain matches his. I pull his head down against my chest and stroke his hair, hoping that tomorrow I'll be braver, better, stronger. I already lost my parents and failed to avenge them – I don't want to lose Dee too. But as I reach over and turn out the light on our silence, I know I still don't have what it takes to claim him, to belong to him. Not yet.


	9. Chapter 9

Hi guys,

Many, many apologies for taking so long with this, the final segment. I recently started a Masters program and took a new job as an instructor, so I haven't had much time for anything outside of that. Thank you for your support of HeartShy - I've certainly enjoyed writing it. I hope the ending meets your expectations, and, as always, thank you for reading!

PS - Book seven never sat well with me, so I've scrambled the facts to my own particular tastes. :)

DEE

Things have been calm lately - all around. It's fall on New Abode - fresh cinnamon smelling - and you'd think the tumbling down of a few yellow leaves had put a stop to crime forever. I keep pausing under trees, expecting to see hordes of gun-toting thugs, just watching the leaves fall. So yeah, the station's dead as a doornail. Rhyoh still finds work to do, of course, but the rest of us are content to make bets on when Dragen will give in to JJ. He's still in denial, but JJ is a persistent s.o.b. (I should know, huh?) What it all comes down to is I've never been so bored as a Keeper.

Bikky has stayed out of trouble - or, at least, if he's in trouble, Rhyoh and I don't know about it. Cal comes around, pretty as ever, so at least I can torment him about that. Last week we had "the talk" - you know the one. Mostly it consisted of me dumping protection into his hands and telling him to be careful. He made owl eyes at me, but he left off the "perv" part when he said thanks. Gods know you can't leave these things up to Rhyoh. He probably thinks they're playing tea party up there in his room. Hopefully, he'll know to come to me if he needs advice. I was a ladykiller back in my day - still might be if it wasn't for Rhyoh.

Rhyoh... huh. I don't even know where to start when it comes to him. I keep coming back to what Jim told me - cool on the outside, turbulent on the inside. I felt it when he came to my room last time. He dropped his shields to let me feel everything he was going through... but how much sympathy am I supposed to have? Does he think that wanting him is easy for me when half the time he acts like I could mean something to him and the other half it's all this "just partners" bullshit? We haven't been "just partners" since the first day we met.

I've already proven to myself that I can't outrun what he is to me - what we should be to each other - but I sure miss my old freedom sometimes - just being able to pick up and go. But if I left, I'd miss Penguin and the kids though. Even the live-in primates. Huh. How funny is that? All this time I haven't belonged to anyone, haven't had a family at all - and one comes and ambushes me outside the Curved Horn. They're a strange bunch, I'll give you that, but having them is nice.

I know I said I was bored with work - Keepers are supposed to live dangerously, gun fights, laser battles, all that - but I sure like the routine of "home life." Don't tell anybody - it'd damage my reputation with the guys for sure, but I really like being with Rhyoh, Cal, and Biks, I mean, monkey-boy, in the evenings. Rhyoh might keep me out of his bed, but he won't forbid me the house. I usually head home, shower, have a smoke, and turn my steps toward his place. Sometimes I'll be sitting up in the lighthouse, smoking and looking over New Abode, and I'll hear them downstairs. Bikky complaining about being "dragged over to the perv's," Cal getting into my cupboards to find dishes for pizza or whatever Rhyoh's prepared, Rhyoh calling me down out of my solitude. I just wish he'd call my name another way. I wish loving him didn't have to be such a painful, painful thing.

RHYOH

Dee's slumped half over his desk as I head to my locker to get my things, but I decide not to disturb him yet. Our shift's out in minutes and even the comm-lines are surprisingly silent. The city - our sector anyway - seems under a sort of Sleeping Beauty spell, quiet and gentle. I should appreciate the rest, but it just brings my own problems into sharper relief. Leskar is still out there, for one. I can't forget his face, his words... but I still feel the sting of Dee's hand on my cheek. I haven't looked for Leskar since. I know what gang he leads; I could probably find him if I paid a few small street bribes, or if I did some serious research. Instead, I do nothing and have to know with every breath that Leskar is breathing as well - that the man who took my family from me is alive. And I can't chase him because of the man snoring softly at our desk.

I pause to look at him. His face always gentles in sleep - its sharp edges eased by peace. His hair needs cutting, wisping over his collar, bangs curled over his relaxed wrist. The purple highlights are almost outgrown, faded to lilac. My hands clench at my sides; I'm holding back like I always do, stopping myself from touching him even though he probably wouldn't even feel the touch. But then, there is the bond... he probably would feel me. The bond seems to get stronger every day. I haven't gone back to his bed, but I haven't stopped wanting to, or wanting him. But I'm afraid of getting into any intimate situation with him. I'm afraid if I say no this time, I'll lose him for good. So I say nothing. Dee's another one of my problems... and I can't see my way clear to a solution no matter how hard I try.

"Clarion?"

I practically jump, even though he spoke softly enough. It's never his volume that disturbs me (as Dee's does) it's the undercurrent, the insinuation, the innuendo. "Would you come with me, please?"

"Yes, sir," I tell Rothschild, stealing a last look at Dee before entering his lair.

I never feel comfortable in Rothschild's office - probably because of Dee's constant warnings. He gestures for me to take a seat inside and I notice a new edition to his desk - a tiny photograph of the Marshall. Maybe this place has gotten safer.

He notices me looking. "A gift from Denine. She's moved to self promotion, now." His smile is wry but there's something else in his eyes.

"What did you want to discuss, Sir?"

He smiles and his expression reminds me of the closing teeth of a trap. "Who you might like to partner up with."

"Sir?" My old trick - reverting to questions when I'd rather be screaming accusations.

"Tieg is free, and we'll have some new people coming in next month.'

"Sir, you know I work with Dee." There's a hard edge to my voice now, a grating sound that I don't like to hear.

Rothschild makes a dismissive motion, like he's flicking away a fly. "Your partner who's asleep at his desk for the twelfth time this week? Dee's very close to being let go, Rhyoh. You must know that."

I know Allend hates Dee and would do anything to get rid of him, but the moment feels surreal. Has he been waiting for this opportunity? Is this a coup? "Sir, Dee's a good Keeper," I protest.

"He's a liability to this station. He shoots when he shouldn't, he breaks the rules every day, and he's living off of your reputation and skills instead of his own. Do you think I don't know that?"

I swallow hard and prepare to place myself between Dee and Allend. "Sir, the way Dee's been acting, it's my fault."

Rothschild flashes me a patronizing smile and reaches out to pat my arm. I flinch away from his touch. "Rhyoh, Lyghtner's a grown man. His choices are his own. I can't _imagine _what he's been doing with his night hours, but they're affecting his work, and I can't tolerate that out of a Keeper."

Something in me shatters at his insinuation that Dee has been running around, when it's my fault that Dee's sleeping alone. I no longer care what the man before me thinks. I no longer care who he'll tell. "Sir, Dee's tired because of me. I'll make sure he gets back on track. I'm keeping him as my partner." I stand to go, but Rothschild is faster. He's there, in front of me, hands on both of my arms, holding me in place.

"Lyghtner?" he gasps, breath warm across my face. "No..." Then he pulls me into a crushing kiss. I let him. His mouth tastes like desperation. When he breaks away my lips are bruised, but I feel them lift in a smile.

"I pretended it was Dee," I tell him, leaving the office.

DEE

I wake up at work from a terrible dream. I saw Rhyoh kissing Rothschild. I need to start sleeping at night again if my nightmares are going to translate into my afternoons. Shaking my head to lose the vision of my rival and my... well, whatever he is... I stumble away from the desk to the exit. Rhyoh's name is still lit when I clock out, so he's still in the building somewhere. Usually I'd wait for him, look for him, but I'm afraid I'd see him really coming out of Rothschild's office.

Rothschild... he's been on my case all week. Nothing's happening here - what difference does it make if I nod off now and then? But tonight, I've got to sleep. I've got to get away from thoughts of him.

RHYOH

"So where's the perv?" Bikky asks me as I come in the door, still burning with shame and elation over what I've done. Red heat leaps into my face at the mention of my partner and I'm glad Bikky's eyes are still focused on the game he's playing, even though he should be doing homework.

"Dee must be over at his place. He left work before I did."

"Hmmphf. I wanted him to help me with this level." He pauses the game to rummage through the groceries I've brought in. Usually, I'd chastise him for going for candy before dinner but I can still feel Rothschild's lips... can still remember what I said to him. Does this mean I want Dee as my partner - my _boyfriend_?

Bikky's picked up on my distraction and takes a seat at the table, looking at me intently as he alternates between an apple, a candy bar and a piece of cheese. "So when's he moving in?"

I drop the sack I'm unloading. "What?"

"Dee. Cal and I were talking about it today. She thinks it'll be soon."

Those two have placed bets on our relationship, but what do I say? Before this I would have explained that Dee and I aren't in a relationship... but Biks is sixteen now - he's far from stupid. Even he knows I've been leading Dee on. And I just basically told Rothschild that I was sleeping with Dee. It's not true, but it felt good... felt like it should be true.

"Dee's not moving in, Biks."

He raises an eyebrow at me, quietly calling my bluff, then shrugs. "Okay."

Soon he's back to his game, and I'm preparing dinner, wondering. Even the kids see that this has to come to an end... but how?

I stand outside of Dee's building for a long time, looking at the strange steady glow of his lighthouse. The blue light shines high above the other buildings, catching the hues of the moons - creating a sort of nocturnal rainbow. I know that I need to go to him, to admit that I'm ready to take the next step... whatever it might be. Yet I'm still afraid - afraid of what people might think, afraid that my parents might be ashamed of the choice I'm on the brink of making, afraid of the changes that will come from this one change. If I do this, will we still be able to work together? Will Bikky be okay? Will _I_ be okay?

My hands shake as I insert the key in the door. I try to rehearse what I'll say to him. After all that we've been through, what can I say? I swallow hard and walk up the stairs in the dark. His voice stops me before I get far.

"Back again? I knew you would be." His words are thick, the tone unlike anything I've ever heard from him before. I turn to see him lying on the couch in the dark. The light coming through the windows is filtered through an amber bottle lying just beyond the reach of his hand. I know that it's mostly empty.

"Dee? Are you drunk?" I cross the room to stand before him, searching his face.

"Not completely. I don't sleep well anymore. This helps."

I sit down beside him without being invited. "I know you haven't been sleeping well, Dee. It's my fault, isn't it?"

"Yes, but you're not going to do anything about it though, now are you?" He goes to stand, to retrieve the bottle, but I push him back down, capturing his mouth. His kiss burns, searingly alcoholic, but I don't pull away. His body is overwarm from the alcohol, and he holds me tight against his chest. Eventually he pulls back, panting slightly.

"Damn you," he says, voice harsh in the dark. I deserve any curse he wants to throw at me if I've driven him to this.

I find his lips again. Somehow, he ends up overtop of me, one hand encircling both of my wrists. He stares down at me, eyes glittering. I've never seen him like this before - Dee's a lot of things, but he's never hopeless. He's not the type to throw it all away and hide in a bottle. I push past his shields - weakened by intoxication - searching for what's tormenting him. I find need, exhaustion, and a surprisingly vivid vision of Rothschild kissing me. Shit! He saw that? Oh Dee...

His grip on my wrists tightens. "I could take you, you know," he says quietly. I say nothing. I almost wish he would if it would end this painful carousel we're trapped on.

"Nothing, huh?" he asks my silence. "You probably wouldn't care what I did, as long as I keep it out of sight."

"Dee, it's not like that." He draws back from me, settling on the end of the couch with a hand over his eyes.

"I almost wish that you'd never touch me at all. How can you come here and do this to me? We talked about this, Rhyoh – I can't take it! You're going to make me lose everything - you, Cal, Bikky... and I'm going to hate you when you do, Rhyoh. I won't be able to help it." He turns, angry. "I'm not even going to be a fucking Keeper anymore! Rothschild's already got the paperwork filled out."

"What do you want me to do?"

My question, though sincere, enrages him. "I want you to fucking admit what's going on between us! I want you to stop running away from what you can't change! You belong to me, Rhyoh!"

I came for a resolution - I intended to comfort him - but his possessiveness infuriates me. "The lifebond then?" I ask him, voice gone quietly deadly.

He gapes. "So you _do_ know."

"Yes. I stole your book." Either something in my tone or something in the discovery that I know about the bond seems to strike him hard. He's felled at the knees, and he falls backward against the couch, deflated. I feel his healing powers flaring; he's chasing the alcohol from his system.

"Oh," he says a moment later, completely sober. "Then it's just that you don't want me, then." He's staring ahead, eyes unseeing. "I thought... I hoped you just didn't know yet. I'll transfer then. Rothschild will be happy to put the paperwork through." He turns on me again. "Tell me that it's what you want, Rhyoh! Tell me to leave the station. I'll get a new partner, I'll leave. Damn you, say it! You've taken my whole life away!"

He's made me angry now, throwing this all on me. "So you're fine with me belonging to you - but not the other way around? You're okay with changes happening in my life - but not in yours?" I ask him, standing. "Maybe you should think about that, Dee."

He gapes at me for a minute, then reaches for the bottle. "Fuck you. I'm not the one running, Rhyoh."

"No, but is your own comfort the only thing you think about, Dee?" I've made it to the door by this time, shaking with anger. "By the way, I told Rothschild we were sleeping together - that should get him to leave you alone for awhile." The door slams behind me and I stalk into the city.

DEE

The amount of alcohol in my system ought to have killed me, but if Rhyoh's words didn't do the trick themselves, I figured I was safe to swim toward oblivion. It's left me feeling like death today, though - hurting so much that I don't even want to engage my powers to stop the pain. Or maybe it's that I deserve the pain and know it. Ma'at chitters above me, sounding like a choir of demons. I oblige her with a grapefruit, forgetting that she can't lift such a heavy burden back to her palace of ferns.

"Sorry girl," I mumble, stumbling toward the kitchen for a knife. I cut the fruit into manageable pieces, leaving my fingers surprisingly intact. Waves of crimson crash into my skull and I sink down at the kitchen table, trying not to think of what I said to my partner - what he said to me. Did I really threaten him? Gods what a fuck-up I can be! But I've just been so tired, and tired of the ringer he keeps putting me through. I never know when it's okay to kiss him or touch him or hold him; I never know when something that pleased him one day will earn me his anger and cold silence the next. I tried to tell him last time – tried to show him that I have boundaries and limits too. He can't expect to keep taking and taking from me like this, and then accusing me of thinking of _my _comfort!

And he does know about the bond then - about how it works and how to resolve it. Well, doesn't that just make my guns look attractive. If he knows, how can he deny it? What choice has he got? God knows I've tried not to force him into seeing, tried to let him come to a realization on his own, but c'mon! I've been as patient as anyone could be expected to be in this fucked up situation, thank you very much! What does he want me to do?

Then I remember something else. He told Rothschild that we were together. Why? To keep Rothschild from chasing him? Was the kiss I dreamed real then? Or was he actually considering sleeping with me? Is that what he came for? Am I supposed to feel hopeful or depressed? Either way, I'm glad it's not a work day. Grabbing coffee and aspirin, I take myself upstairs. I haven't slept well in weeks and my hangover isn't going to allow for much advanced movement anyway. I lie very still and try to keep my thoughts away from a man who tells other people I'm his lover, and who doesn't want to be bound to me.

RHYOH

Denine is sitting outside in the autumn wind when I leave work for lunch. Usually Dee would be with me, but he hasn't been in for a few days now - my fault, I know. Still, he has vacation time saved up and Rothschild can't do anything to him for now. I keep expecting to hear that he's put his papers in for transfer. I should go to him and try to stop him - but what could I possibly offer? I can't live my life with someone who thinks I'm property! I won't take destiny and magic in place of love. If he cared for me at all, he'd realize that.

And yet... I know that's a lie, too. Leaving him like I did - part of it was anger over his comments - his obvious feelings that he had a right to me based on the bond, with or without my consent. But another part of it was that same old wall I always throw up between us: fear. I intended to give myself to him, but when faced with his real touch on my skin, faced with the thought of him inside me, and what that would make me - gay - no turning back now - I did the same thing I always do: I hurt him and then I ran. His green eyes are always with me, pain-dark at the center but full of life, burning in my brain. His name is tattooed on my soul. And still I'm slowly destroying him.

Denine indicates the black metal chair across from her; her smile is worn at the edges, a mask that's been used hard. Steam from her tea cup curls into the brisk wind. "What's up, sad eyes?"

"Hmmm?" The greeting surprises me. I guess I don't look any better than she does.

"How are you doing?" She searches my face and seems pained at what she discovers there. "And where's your shadow?"

"Dee? He's working on reports at home."

She snorts and shakes her head at me, jangling her gaudy earrings. "Bullshit. Lyghtner's never worked through lunch hour in his life. Why not just tell the truth and admit that he's avoiding you or you're avoiding him?"

Color flares into my cheeks. "It's not anything like that... we..." It's hard to lie under eyes as piercing as hers. I never was much of a liar anyway. "Dee's not talking to me," I admit at last.

"Still fighting the obvious?"

"I don't belong to him!" I snap.

She rolls her shoulders in a shrug, unaffected by my anger. "Whether you do or not, you're certainly in a tangle. How far have you guys gotten anyway?"

I choke on my first bite of my sandwich. Subtlety has never been Denine's strong suit. "What!?"

"Still prissy, huh?"

"I'm just a private person," I answer the jab.

"Answer the damn question."

I turn my eyes to the grey sky, the yellow leaves, trying to find a way not to answer. I'm an adult, I owe her nothing, but I haven't had anyone to talk to in so long. In her brusque way, I know that Denine has her hand extended to offer help. "We've uh... we've just kissed, okay?"

Her eyes are the size of dinner plates, and blazing to boot. "WHAT!? Bullshit."

I try to hold back my words, but they come anyway. "Well, he made love to me once... but it was just to save my life from a poison. A drug."

"To save your life?" she repeats slowly. "Did he push you after that?"

I hear Dee's desperate voice in my head, _I could take you, you know_. I knew even then that he wouldn't; I felt no fear at those words. "No. Never. He's never even mentioned it."

She gives me a knowing look. "And that doesn't suggest anything to you? That he'd put his personal need aside to help you and not use it as an initiation?"

I nod miserably, but old arguments flare anyway. "He feels like I belong to him - like it's a force of nature! Where's the choice in that!?

"You chose to care about Dee long before you knew about the bond, I think." She takes me hand and squeezes, offering strength. "It's only fear that's holding you back. You let him kiss you, you've kissed him back. You can choose to deny him and make another life for yourself - it's possible. But no one will ever care for you like he does, and you'll both hurt for it." Her tone hardens; she's not going to let me off easily for what I've done. "Though if I can read eyes at all, I'd say he hurts more. He's proven his loyalty, proven he's capable of monogamy. Everyone knows Dee's slept alone for the last two years."

Her words enter my brain like needles; I want to bring my hands over my ears to shut her out. But everything she's saying is true...

"Dee feels deeply for you, Rhyoh. If you don't want him, then transfer and stop being a torment, a tease."

"I'm not!" I can't believe she'd say something like that.  
"I've seen you," she says evenly. "You let him kiss you, you let him make you feel good, then you throw cold water in his face." She presses on, "Do you like the power of it? Of sending him inside alone every night? You don't have him, but then, neither does anyone else."

I'm shattering right before her eyes. "I can't face this. I'm overwhelmed."

Denine's nails dig into my wrist; she holds me to my pain, forces me to live through it. "You're a goddamn Keeper - you don't get to be overwhelmed! Besides, is your fear reason enough to torture Dee?"

"I'll lose everything I am!"

"That's what you're afraid of, anyway. Nice to hear the truth for a change. That, and having to face up to everything that you are. That's why you won't let yourself fall head over heels for him." She places a hand on my face. "Rhyoh, you'll still be a Keeper, a marksman, and Bikky's parent. What else do you need?"

The wind is cold against the dampness on my cheeks. "The facade," I croak. "The normalcy." It's being different that I'm afraid of it. My entire life has been marked by difference - my heritage, the loss of my parents... now my sexuality too? I remember a conversation that Dee and I had after a witness commented on the strange coloring of my eyes.

"If it bothers you so much, why don't you wear sunglasses?" my partner asked.

I squirmed a little. "I don't know."

He chucked me under the chin. "Because you want to be accepted for who you are." _Dee_... _you've always accepted me. And I've fought you every step of the way. _

Denine draws me back with her voice. "The facade," she repeats. "The lie? Dee's been like a tank to everything white picket fence about you. Rhyoh, what you've been doing - it hasn't been living. Your plan for revenge fell through," she says gently, pressing her fingers to the wound. "So what's left?"

"I don't know," I say, sniffling a little - cold and miserable.

"Your work, Bikky, and Dee. Look, it's hard to be on the other end, to have to keep holding on to someone who won't let you in. Trust me, I know." She stands and enters the station without another word. I sit staring down the autumn horizon for a long time.

DEE

I'm sitting in my chair, shivering, when he comes in. I know his tread without looking, know his presence. Even when he's not with me, he is, and for all that I'm a mess with him, without him, because of him - I'm glad that he's come. He walks up behind me, settling his hands on my neck. The smallest touch can break me and I sigh, relaxing into the feel of his hands. He works in silence, persuading the knots in my neck and shoulders to leave. When he's finished, he grabs a blanket from the couch and covers me.

"You deserve more than a massage," he admits quietly.

I don't know what to say, don't know what's expected of me. Do I apologize? Surely he knows that I feel awful about what I said. "Rhyoh..."

"Shhh. I have to do this. I'm sorry for what I said last time... all the times. Dee..." I can see he's getting choked up and I reach for his hand, wanting to take the pain from him.

"It's okay," I tell him, stroking his fine, long fingers. "I understand. I pushed, and that was wrong of me. I know you're scared. I'll wait, Rhyoh." It's not what I want to say. I want to tell him to stop ripping my heart out... but I'm a fool when it comes to him?

He makes a strangled sound - a sob? "I wish I didn't have to ask you to. I wish I was stronger than this, Dee." He reclaims himself then, holds back to my hand. "But I did say I'd think about us, and I have."

I brace myself, afraid. What if he wants to transfer? What if he wants me to? My heart pounds. Is this the moment when he tells me he can never see me again?

"I... I want to go farther than we've gone," he says, almost whispering. Through my gaping, I realize that this must be hard for him, but I can't speak, can't help him - I'm too surprised. "I mean, more than kisses. I... I'm not sure I'm ready for everything, but I do want to be with you, Dee."

"Like a test drive?" I ask, feeling ridiculous. I just want to be sure of what he's saying here. Is he saying what I think he's saying? Am I going to get to...?

He smiles faintly, cheeks pink. "Y-yeah. Like that."

I feel completely reborn. _Finally!_ Finally some chance to prove to him that I'm right for him! I smile up at him, throwing the cover across the room. "Baby, I'm gonna make you feel so good..."

He smiles back, but his eyes are frightened. "I won't go farther than you want," I say, hoping to reassure him. "I promise. When it gets to be too much, I'll stop. You just say the word."

RHYOH

I don't remember walking back to Dee's bedroom. I don't remember Dee's face ever looking so gentle, either. He's holding my eyes, one hand on my cheek. Smiling softly, he brushes my hair back from my forehead and kisses me there. I expected his usual bruising kisses, but the featherlight brush of his lips almost brings tears to my eyes. How could I deny this? And yet how can I be giving in? I lock the latter voice away quickly. This time, if no other, I have to be true to myself - and my body wants Dee's touch.

Holding to him lightly, I find that I'm nervous, afraid of messing things up. He senses my unease and holds me. We lay unmoving for a few moments as he lets me adjust to the feel of my body in his arms - the feel of his hands on my skin. He's held me before, touched me before... but this time is different. I'm not seeking him out at night, guilty for needing him; I'm giving him myself in hopes of pleasing him. I know he'll please me.

"You okay?" he asks, kneeling above me. I smile at the familiar picture he makes: Dee in pounce mode. His lean face is beautiful and hungry, eyes glittering with the promise of good things to come.

I brush my fingers along his face, down his neck, just to see him arch into my touch. "I'm okay."

"Good. That's a start. Now let's go for exceptional."

"Think you're that good, huh?" I whisper as he buries his face in my neck.

"You know it, baby." I'd make a retort - I usually don't let him call me that - but I'm busy moaning under his ministrations. His kisses actually make me twist against him, begging for more touch. I reach under his shirt to feel the skin of his back. He's already loosed my shirt and is moving down my chest, scattering kisses. His fingers are at work on my thighs - teasing.

DEE

I want to draw it out, to make it good. I want to show him that's it not the sex I want - but him - his body, his beauty, the feel of him in my arms. For all that, the idea of finally being allowed to touch him has me half-mad with want. Every whimpering cry sends electricity through my body and I'm wound tight as wire. It's damaging my performance and I have to pull up to breathe for a moment.

"Dee?" he asks below me. "Did I do something wrong?"

I smile and swipe the sweat from my brow. "No, you just overwhelm me. Is this too fast?"

He shakes his head, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "No. I want..." Fear stops him from saying more but the helpless, pleading look of him has me moaning aloud.

"Gods, Rhyoh... Uhmmmm... tell me, please? I want to here you say it."

"You, Dee. I want you."

I could die in this moment, hearing those words. Instead, I ease his pants away from his hips and take him into my mouth. Lifting my eyes, I see his head fall back, and his moans reach me easily at the foot of my bed. Flower petals unfold in my mind as I draw him in - satin, salt, and steel.

RHYOH

I'm floating on air... in seas of static, white lava, and lilies. White throated flowers with golden tongues float through my mind as Dee draws me closer and closer to insanity. My fingers clench and unclench, searching for anchorage. Eventually he gives me his hand, tethering me to the moment even as the moment unwinds around me, spilling down the long column of his throat. I think I might have screamed but it takes me long moments come to. Through the fluttering of my eyelashes I see Dee's face above mine.

"Something...for...you?" I manage, feeling stunned, emptied, boneless. I know it was fast, but I don't feel guilty about it. No one could have withstood those lips, that circling tongue... I shudder again, caught in aftershocks.

Dee surprises me by lying down beside me, turning me into his arms. His body is warm, the circle of his arms safe. "Later. I'd rather hold you, right now." He pulls the cover over both of us and I find that I don't mind my nakedness. A few moments later he asks, quietly, "Was it what you wanted?"'

The question catches me offguard. Does Dee not know what an exceptional lover he is? "You were wonderful," I say, kissing his cheek.

The next morning, Dee's gone when I wake. A note says he's gone to grovel to Rothschild - because after last night he's pretty sure he can face even that! Attached to the note is another piece of paper, folded and taped around something. I open it gingerly, wondering. Inside is a gold chain, and Dee's lilac ring.

Rhyoh,

I know we've been through a lot of ups and downs lately, and I don't want to push you. Still, I want you to know how much you mean to me. They found this ring with me - I think it belonged to my mom. I'd be honored if you'd take it - no matter what you decide. Here for you, no matter what,

Dee

Tears lining my eyes, I clasp the necklace around my throat and leave to find my partner.

RHYOH

Dee's nowhere to be found when I enter the station - which is odd, considering I woke up beside him and we work at the same place. There's really no reason for us to drive separate vehicles, but he said he needed to stop somewhere after work, so I let him go. I assumed he would come to work_ first_, of course. I decide to check in with Dragen and JJ - it'll be a good chance to see how they're doing anyway. Gossip has it that they're already together, but I don't know... I almost smack myself in the face. I can't even completely own up to my own relationship, but I'm placing bets on other peoples'!? Sheesh!

"Hey Dragen, you seen Dee?"

He looks up from a series of grisly photographs; our mild fall and uneventful winter have given way to a murderous spring, unfortunately, though the lull did lead to some cold cases getting solved. "Hey, Rhyoh. Dee? Nope, I haven't seen him. You tried his wristband?"

"Yeah, yeah. I wish he wouldn't take off without telling me." After all, the first time was for vigilante justice, and the second time he ended up in deep space.

"What's the date?" Dragen asks me, out of the blue.

"Huh? April twentieth. Why?"

Dragen leans back in his chair and takes a swig of coffee. "I know where Dee is."

Dragen's information doesn't surprise me half as much as my own willingness to drive out to the Tombs to find Dee. After all, two funerals and murder investigations leaves one without much taste for such places. Shivering a little in the cool wind (spring hasn't turned completely gentle, yet) I stroll the paths, eyes out for my dark haired partner.

I find him speaking softly to a tombstone. I can't make out the words but I have to smile at the flowers wrapped in newspaper, the whiskey bottle he's brought to sit atop the grave. Dee has a sense for doing such things right, and it doesn't surprise me that he'd come here to pay tribute to the dead. I feel a sharp pang, realizing that it's been years - since I transferred here, really - since I went to see my parents' graves. I push the thoughts away and go to Dee.

"How bout this for an idea," I say lightly, over his shoulder. "Next time something important comes up, use one of your vacation days."

He shakes his head at me and drags on a cigarette. "Idiot. You have no sense of play. Vacation's are not for stuff like this. Besides, I cleared it with Brushface."

"What about the Lt. Commander?"

"Please. How'd you know I was here?"

"Dragen told me."

"Ah yeah, I guess he knows. We graduated together, you know, me and Dragen."

"Mind if I ask who you came to visit?"

"This dude?" Dee jerks his thumb at the grave. "This is my dad."

My eyes widen. "But..."

"No, not my real one. Orphan, remember?" He looks away and his eyes go distant, remembering. "But he was the next best thing - if not better - than having a real dad." His eyes return to me. "Rhyoh Clarion, meet Alberich Lightner. My last name is based on his."

And so I began to learn the beginning of Dee's story.

Alberich Lightner was only twenty-two when he found the abandoned baby, tucked in a blanket and nestled in the shelter of packing crates. A purple ring was tied to the blanket - Alberich was surprised it hadn't been stolen. He might have spent time looking for the mother, but he took the child to the orphanage instead, delivering the dark haired boy into the capable, caring hands of Sister Maria Lane.

That should have been the end of it. After all, he was a Keeper, trained to handle intergalactic crime - drug wars, gangs, crises, drugs were his particular area in fact - but he kept working the 'Brinth, kept coming back to watch the boy grow. Maybe it was because he knew he'd never have a child of his own. Young as he was, he lived a dangerous life - a life he didn't want to entangle a wife in. Instead, he held to Dee, and tried to be the best father he could.

It was difficult in the 'Brinth. Street toughness came early to young Dee and the crowd he ran with, but a dark shadow never crossed his heart. He might drag his feet when ordered to the market to help Mother - but he always chipped in some of his own hard earned money to bring back something special for the younger kids. He held a job from a very young age, and though given to childish pranks like shoplifting, he did no serious damage. He was loyal and hardworking - devoted to his friends and his place of upbringing. Only his eyes ever showed the pain he felt at knowing he'd been abandoned.

Alberich sensed the gifts in him early and pulled every string he had to get the boy into the Academy. They left together on a windy spring morning, leaving Mother weeping in the doorway, eyes bright with pride and tears. Alberich had taken a teaching position inside the Academy to be close to his young charge and another of Dee's friends, Aaron. If it hadn't been for Aaron, things might have been different.

Alberich knew what Aaron was doing from the start... but never intervened. A talented boy, Aaron would have made an excellent Keeper, but he got roped in early by a drug ring that preferred to use young men to deliver its goods. The fact that Aaron was in the Academy made things even easier for them - they asked the boy to deliver information as well as other "special services." What was the Academy teaching its students? What weapons were they being trained with? Aaron, addicted to the very drugs he delivered, would have told them anything to get his fix.

Then, one day, a delivery went wrong.

Several Keepers blocked the building where the murder had taken place, but Dee spun and dodged around them, determined to see, to confirm that it was Aaron lying there, blood spattered on the white stone.

"Kid, get out of here! This is a crime scene!" shouted a disgruntled officer; the boy was in training to be a Keeper, the officer could tell from his uniform, so why was he acting so foolishly?

Dee's wiry frame flashed past him, long hair caught in the breeze of his passage. Slipping under the wires that cordoned off the scene, Dee came face to face with his dead friend. Wide eyes stared, glazed with death, and Aaron's mouth was open in a silent cry. His clothes were torn, pants dragged below his hips. He had not died peacefully.

A senior Keeper noticed Dee at last. "What the hell!? This isn't some kind of circus! You can't be in here."

Dee didn't hear him; he barely felt Alberich's hand descend on his shoulder. "He's with me. He's... he was a friend of the victim's. Just let it go, alright?"

The officer nodded; Alberich was known and respected for being a tough customer. "Alright, but not too long, okay?"

It was the last time Dee ever saw his friend; the casket was closed.

Soon after, Dee put the skills he would use as a Keeper to hard work. Things had been strange with Aaron for weeks, and he started to connect the dots. Keepers-in-training weren't just gunned down on campus for no reason. He remember Aaron telling him that he'd gotten another job, remembered Aaron going pale and shaking, then reviving after biting into a candy bar. It might mean nothing… but then again... He ran out of his dorm room toward that of his friend. With any luck, no one would have thought to go through Aaron's stuff yet. Sure enough, a few candy bars were stuffed in a drawer. Dee took them and went to find Alberich.

"Huh?" the older man asked over his coffee cup. "A candy bar? Why are you freaking out on a candy bar?"

"I saw Aaron a few hours before he was killed," Dee admitted, the words coming hard to his lips. "He was hanging out with some dude that just looked bad. He gave Aaron a small, blue package - and a candy bar like this. I've never seen another one like it."

Alberich had a strange look in his eyes. "And you think it has something to do with his death?"

"The package wasn't found with his body," Dee pointed out. "And Aaron was real busy with work, but when we did hang out he'd get these..." he searched for the word, "Seizures. I offered to heal him, but he said he was just hungry, and he'd always grab one of these candy bars. I know it sounds crazy, but I think there's something to them!"

The insistence in his voice touched something in Alberich. "All right, all right, you win. I'll talk to one of the lab guys about one of these candy bars. They'll laugh their asses off, but I can take it. But on one condition, Dee."

"What's that?"

"If it's nothing, I want you to drop this and stick to your classes. You'll have plenty of time to poke around at death once you get out of here. For now, get your education, alright?"

"Okay."

"And shouldn't you be in class now, as a matter of fact?"

Dee shot a glance at the clock and groaned. He was very, very late.

"Get out of here," Alberich told him with a wink and a grin. It was that grin, reaching up under his mustache, that Dee would always remember. After Dee had gone, he set a match to the candy bar and watched as the whole thing went up in a trail of acrid smoke. "Damn it, Dee," he said to the empty room, "Why do you have to be so sharp sometimes?"

It was shortly after that that the official report was released regarding Aaron's death. The investigators stated that he had been a heavy user of drugs for at least six months. Dee received the news from boys back home who had been Aaron's friends as well as his. They wanted to know if the report was true, demanded to know why Dee hadn't done something to help Aaron. Dee let himself seethe for only a few minutes before going to bang on Alberich's door.

The Keeper staggered to the door in his bathrobe, squinting. He'd been teaching night classes and was less than pleased to be called out of bed at the crack of dawn. "What the hell is it?" he yelled at the door.

Opening it, he found a determined dark haired youth who answered quietly, "Me."

Alberich sighed and let the boy inside, turning to collapse onto the couch. "Aw, c'mon, Dee. You know I work tonight."

Dee was relentless. "I know, but there's something I had to ask you about." He thrust the report into Alberich's hands. "Is it true?"

Alberich squinted some more, trying to get the black squiggles to make sense. "What is it?"

"The report about Aaron's death. I want to know if there's any truth to what they wrote. You worked in drug tracking for years, so you'd know, right?"

His words burrowed into Alberich's heart like daggers. Still, he had always told Dee the truth... or at least, as much of it as he had been able to tell. "The coroner's report looks accurate," he said at last.  
"Even the part about the injection sights?"

Alberich nodded. "Yes. They wouldn't print it if they thought there was any uncertainty, Dee."

Dee slammed his fist into an endtable. "Bullshit! I saw Aaron all the time! I wouldn't have missed something that big!"

"Dee, people overlook things all the time," Alberich pacified.

"Then the candy bar - they must have found something, right?"

"Dee, I told you it tested negative. You promised, didn't you?" He was getting angrier and angrier as he spoke; Dee couldn't know that his anger was directed at himself. "Just forget Aaron's case, Dee. Forget everything!"

Dee's voice grew calmer, colder. "Look, if it tested negative, why do I have to forget everything, huh? You're hiding something from me, aren't you, Alberich!!?!"

Before he could protest, a knock came at the door. "Yo, Al, you in there?" All the color drained from his face as the door opened. Dee gasped; it was the same man who had given Aaron the package!

The man came in talking. "So about what we were talking about, Al," He stopped at the sight of Dee. "Hmm? Who's this?" He didn't wait for Alberich to answer. "Oh, I get it. You found us a new errand boy to replace the last one. Good work."

"Are you talking about Aaron?" Dee asked.

Alberich shoved him away, putting his body between the man's and the boy's. "No. He's got nothing to do with it. He was just leaving." His eyes screamed into Dee's: _Get out! Go! Now!_

The man was not deterred. "Wait a minute, Al. He already knows Aaron. Chances are he's already familiar with the ins and outs of things." He turned again to Dee. "Look here, kid, if you want to make a few extra bucks, I might have just the job for you." His smile curved like needles over flame. "We had an unexpected vacancy, you see."

"Byrn, that's enough!" Alberich shouted, pushing Dee toward the door.

The man turned on him, grabbing his collar. "Shut the hell up! As far as I'm concerned, I'm still the one giving orders around here, and you're certainly in no position to change the pecking order anytime soon." He let Alberich go; cowed, he sank heavily into a chair, hand over his eyes.

"So, which of our jobs would you be interested in?"

"Which one? What do you mean?"

"Aaron didn't tell you all about it?" he asked, surprised. "Well, no matter. You could be our errand boy, run a few errands here and there... or you could provide some friendly bedside service to a few of our special customers." He leered, looking at Dee the way one might look at a wellbred dog or horse. "In other words, let 'em screw you, you know? Aaron did both. You seem to have more fire than him, but then, that might just make you better in bed." He was looking the boy right in the eye, but he never saw the punch coming - never expected the raw power behind it that drove him to his knees. Healers could hurt as well as heal, and Dee channeled all of his hurt over Aaron into pain that the drug dealer could feel.

"Ahhhh! Make it stop!"

Dee's hands were tight on his shoulders. "Tell me what you made Aaron do."

"D-drop offs, pick ups... he'd service clients for us, sometimes service us." Feeling the influx of pain leaving him, he regained his cocky manner. "And just so you know, we might have proposed the deal to him - but it was his choice. Not to mention the fact that he enjoyed it too. Little freak."

A knife materialized in Dee's hand, drawn from under his coat. He held it directly in line with Byrn's eye. For the first time since the beginning of their encounter, the drug dealer knew fear. The boy was obviously capable of killing him, and Alberich was making no move to stop him. "Are you the one who killed him?" Dee demanded.

"No, no, it wasn't me. He was working for me, I didn't want him dead. There must have been some trouble with the delivery and he got mixed up in it. An unlucky break, but I had nothing to do with it, I swear!"

Finally, Alberich stepped in and pulled the young man away. "Dee, that's enough."

Dee slapped his hand away, recoiling from his touch. "You knew, all this time. You knew what he was doing, didn't you?"

Alberich nodded. "Yeah, I knew."

"Then why?"

"He needed the money. He's the one who made the ultimate decision."  
Dee knew a cop-out when he heard one. He turned from the only man he had ever thought of as a father. "I don't ever want to see your face again!" Then he walked from the apartment. Alberich knew that in that moment he had lost everything.

Byrn didn't leave him time for grief. "How much does he know?"

"Don't worry, he doesn't know anything," Alberich said in a hollow voice.

"I'll beg to differ - he knows plenty!" He was still smarting over the pain Dee had dealt him, over having a knife leveled at his eye. ""Just knowing about Aaron's line of work is reason enough to have him taken care of, you know what I mean?"

Byrn was oblivious to Alberich's deadly tone, to his hand reaching for a weapon. "Taken care of?"

"Yeah. And I'd be more than happy to erase a snot-nosed brat like that myself. I'm sure the boss would agree with me."

Alberich cocked his gun, heard the bullets fall into the extra chambers. "Why don't you just let me take care of things, Byrn? Or at least, take care of you?"

The single shot echoed throughout the apartment.

The next day, Dee found a bloodstained letter hastily pinned to his door. It lacked any sort of salutation and the scrawl was hasty, mottled with blood.

You were right. The chocolate bar you found was indeed packed with drugs. It's a pretty common control method used by traffickers to make sure that their errand boys don't run out on them. Meanwhile, I was selling Academy information to them. I was one of them. Believe me when I say that I wanted to get Aaron out and failed, just as I failed you as a father. That is something I'll always be sorry for. The gang doesn't know anything about you, so you'll be safe. I took care of Byrn.

You were always a handful Dee - sometimes more - but you were always true, always honest in the path you chose. I wish I could have seen you one last time, but it's better for both of us if I just disappear. Keep living your life as honestly as you always have.

The blood on the letter was still warm when he opened it. He knew Alberich could not have gotten far. He sprinted out of the Academy gates and into the city. It didn't take him long to sense Alberich's pain, to find the alley where they had cornered him.

"Alberich!!"

The killers leveled their guns at him, but a motion from their leader stopped them.

Dee knelt to lift the dying man's head into his arms. Tears dripped from his cheeks. "Alberich? Why?"

"Thought... thought you never wanted to see my face again," he tried to joke.

"No way, Alberich! No way!" To his surprise, the dying man smiled and reached up to cup his chin, leaving bloody fingerprints on his face.

"Dee, you live your life as honestly... as you always have..." Then he faded away.

The leader of the men who had killed Alberich barked a laugh. "As honestly as you always have, huh? What, just because you couldn't, huh, Al? Half-assed mother fucker."

Dee glared, blood and tears mingling on his cheek.

"Watch it kid!" one of the attendants warned, but the man in charge pushed him back.

"Nice look there... If these guys had half your fire... What do you say? Want to come work for me, kid? You'd make a great crook, I bet."

Dee arranged Alberich's head more comfortably against his knees, holding him away from the pavement. "I'm going to keep living my life as honestly as I can." The fire in him flared then. "And one day, I'm going to be a Keeper - and not a half-assed one like you're used to!"

To everyone's surprise, the boss smiled. "Okay kid, I look forward to it."

"And then I tried to heal him," I tell my partner. "Tried to bring him back from the dead. I almost ruined my powers for good and almost killed myself. I was unconscious for six months. That's why I graduated late. That boss was right - Alberich was a half-assed Keeper, and a half-assed crook too. But when it came to being there for me, when it came to being a father to me - he was the best. Second to none." Suddenly embarrassment over my past sweeps over me, catches up to me. I'd always been ashamed to share this with Rhyoh, who had a family and a house and a normal life, but it's out now, it's there between us. Will he want me any less because of my background? "Don't you think so?" I finish weakly.

He smiles at me. "Well, you think so, don't you? That's all that really matters, isn't it?"

I smile back. "Yeah. I guess that's really all that matters."

To my surprise, he kneels behind me and taps me on one shoulder, getting me to turn my head - right into his lips. His eyes are closed - it's a lover's kiss, a soft and gentle thank you for sharing myself with him. Then he throws his arms around my neck from behind.

"You did good, Dee. You kept your promise."

I pull him into my arms, knowing Alberich wouldn't mind. "Thank you."

RHYOH

I'm dusting Bikky's room (he's sitting on the floor playing video games) when I come across the bullet on the windowsill. "Hey Biks, what's this?"

The glare prevents him from seeing, but he holds up his hand. I drop the bullet into it and watch him close his fingers around it. "Oh, this. Remember when Dee came to get me out of the Curved Horn?" He rarely mentions the place and I'd be the last one to try to get people to face things they're uncomfortable with.

"I remember."

"They shot him. They were supposed to shoot me. He got between me and the bullets. This is one of them." He hands it back and watches it get reestablished on the ledge.

I'm confused now. "Did Dee give it to you?"

He rolls his shoulders, trying to decide how much to say. "No, I kinda took it after he healed himself."

I settle on the edge of the bed, thinking. "You don't really mind him that much, do you?"

He grins. "Dude, for twenty bucks I'll tell you he's my best friend." Seeing no cash forthcoming, he shrugs and turns back to the game. "There are worse people than the perv," he says as I leave. I suppose it's as close to a blessing as I'm going to get.

DEE

The station's all aflutter. Denine and Rothschild have cooked up some big case against the Alvare family (bigtime drug runners and the same family Alberich got messed up with) and they have the boss's daughter in protective custody. Anyone who rats on the hand that feeds them makes me suspicious, but whatever. It's not my case. There's just one thing that worries me - Leskar is married to the girl. Yeah, Leskar. The dude that messed my partner up, who threatened to sell him into pleasure slavery. I hope Rhyoh will be okay, that he won't do anything rash. As I come around the corner toward our office, I hear Denine warning him against just that.

"Don't worry," he's saying, "Dee will make sure I don't do anything stupid."

"Woah, that look was totally suspicious!" the Marshall cries. "Have we resolved things at last, pretty boy?" I know I should go save Rhyoh from the embarrassment he's doubtlessly feeling, but I sort of want to hear what he says.

"Sort of," he admits. "I'm doing the best I can, okay?"

Okay, so it wasn't a confession of his undying affection, but it was still a pretty big step for Rhyoh. I let myself in with the announcement that I've brought coffee and spend the rest of the day working beside him.

RHYOH

I'm not sure just how Denine managed to twist me around her finger, but here I am, getting ready to go replace one of her people as Alison's guard. It should be easy enough - even Leskar wouldn't try to take on an entire hotel and a Marshall-appointed security squad. There'd be too much civilian bloodshed, and the Keepers would be forced to track him down and put an end to his organization.

Dee's sprawled across my bed, unwilling to leave until I do. "You sure you don't want me to come with you? You sure you'll be okay?"

I smile at him as I button my shirt. "I'll be fine. Leskar's not going to show up. If he tries to take her back, it will be out in the open somewhere - not in a hotel."

Dee nods, but continues to look troubled. "I still wish Denine wouldn't have asked you - or you wouldn't have accepted. You don't need to have any contact with those vipers."

I touch his hair, run a hand down my face. "Dee, I'm a good Keeper."

"That's the problem," he points out. "If you'd just slack off now and then like me, they wouldn't ask you to do all this special service bullshit."

I give him a light peck on the cheek. "I've got to go. Are you heading back to your place or will you be here?"

"I'm going to go home and try to rest." I know he'll sit and worry about me instead. "If the kids were here, I'd stay, but no sense rambling around by myself."

"Dee Lyghtner - could you actually be missing Bikky and Cal!?"

He lowers his head, hiding his eyes. "No," he grumbles.

"Biks really looks up to you, you know," I tell him as we head toward the door.

"He always did have bad taste." He places his hands on my shoulders.

"What is it?"

"Did you really think I was going to let you get away with that lame excuse for a kiss?"

I chuckle and lift my lips to his. "Hornball."

Sitting outside of a hotel door is not the most exciting job I've ever had - and the other Keepers more than agree with me. We alternate taking turns to go stretch or get a cup of coffee. Alison makes hourly offers of refreshments, but she's known for using sleeping powder for flavoring, so we always refuse.

"Your turn, Clarion," says Jack. "Go get some air."

Usually I prefer to work straight through, but this sort of work requires a breather every once in awhile. Without one, the simple dinging of the elevator would be enough to make you crazy. Besides, Leskar's not fool enough to show up here.  
I decide to make my way to the car to get my briefcase. I may as well be working on something. I smile at the thought of Dee's note on top of my other papers. I still haven't made things completely right between us, but he's still with me, still waiting for me to get the courage to let him in my heart.

"Pretty night, isn't it?" a voice asks me from the shadows.

I stop instantly, hand going to my gun. The figure doesn't even look at me, eyes lifted to a lighted window in the hotel. "And my wife's up there with another man."

"Leskar!"

His cigarette glows orange in the darkness. "No need to shout. She's seeing the head of a rival organization, did you know that? You should inform your lady Marshall, tomorrow. It's less of a surprise, really, her affair, than how docile you turned out to be. A good quality in a pleasure slave, you know." He smiles, expression illuminated by the cigarette and a slash of moonlight so that it's all violent lines. "Now, I admit that I did a great deal to goad you on, the last time we met. But you were a whole different person, then, weren't you?"

Half words seethe out of my mouth, between my clenched teeth. "...s..posed...act..."

He drags hard on the smoke. "What was that?"

"How the hell was I supposed to react after being told all those horrible things!? You're the whole reason I became a Keeper in the first place - what you did back on Nadj! I wanted to hunt you down... but when I had you right in front of me..."

"You couldn't kill me. And you still can't do it now. You can't do it because you're so afraid of getting blood on your hands."

My heart stops cold in my chest. "Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep asking me to kill you!?"

"Partly to give you your revenge - after this long, I'm sure you deserve it. And partly to give you a fighting chance."

I spin, scanning the alley for an ambush. "A fighting chance?"

"Yes. You and your organization have taken something of mine. My wife was foolish to go to you, and she will be dealt with - but your people are even more unwise to keep her. If she's not returned to me, I promise you'll regret it, Clarion. I'll make you forget all about your parents' deaths."

My weapon is aimed - sighted - in my hands, but my entire body is shuddering, shaking. I lower the weapon and spin on my heels, running from him, from work, from their deaths - from everything. For so long I've lived just for revenge, just for chasing the man I just let go. It's time to start living for something else, and I know just where to go.

DEE

I'm sitting on my floor after a shower, towel around my neck, open beer on the coffee table, when someone knocks on the door. I can't imagine who would be stupid enough to bother me at this hour. "Who the hell is it!?" I yell at the closed door. 'It's way past my bedtime, y'know."

It's Rhyoh. Something in his eyes tells me he's been recently broken, and I let him in without a word. I don't ask him about the job he's supposed to be doing or anything else.

"I-I'm gonna go get a shower," he says softly. "Would you mind calling Denine and Biks? Just tell her I had to go... and make sure Bikky's safe. Maybe ask JJ to circle around Cal's house for the next few days."

The fact that he's not taking responsibility for any of these actions himself, the fact that he's leaning so heavily and completely on me, tells me a lot. I nod. "Sure thing." Then the bathroom door closes between us.

It takes everything in me not to yell at Denine for putting him in another situation that upset him like this. She doesn't complain about him leaving his post, though - just says she'll take care of it. The call to Bikky takes longer; he's worried about Rhyoh and it takes a lot for me to convince him that everything's okay, that Rhyoh's just showering and not injured or in danger.

"Wasn't he supposed to work tonight?"

"He went in, but I think things got to be too much for him. This case involves Leskar."

"That bastard who murdered his parents," Bikky says loyally.

"Right. So he's a little shaken up, but I think he'll be okay." I hope he'll be okay. I hope he didn't shoot anyone.

Then Bikky surprises me by saying, "Take good care of him, Dee."

"It's all I wanna do, kid."

"I know. Have him call me tomorrow. Cal and I are hanging out."

"Be good," I tell him, voice smiling.

"And if you can't be good, be careful, I know, you perv. You too." Then he's gone. You too, huh? I guess I finally have the number one monkey brat's permission to court Rhyoh. Huh. Whodathunkit?

RHYOH

Dee's on his bed when I come out of the shower, still shirtless. His eyes meet mine instantly, concerned. "I called everybody. Denine says to get a good night's sleep and Biks is fine. JJ and Dragen said they'll keep an eye on Cal's place for you, too."

"Thanks."

"Leskar got to you again, didn't he?"

I nod slowly. "Yeah, but don't worry, I didn't shoot him." I'm not ready to mention his threats yet. I know he has lots of people working for him, but I don't imagine he'll be able to find Bikky at Cal's - at least not tonight. I'll talk with Denine tomorrow and see if I can get some permanent security for him. He's the only one I worry about.

"You better not have, dolt. Because if you did, I'd be more than happy to throw you down again, 'specialy if you're all hot and sweaty from the shower." He licks his lips and I have to chuckle. That's my Dee - a one track mind to the end.

"I just got confused about some of the things he said," I find myself admitting. "And the next thing I knew I was standing at the door to your place. I just wanted to see you."

He hears something beyond my words and pulls me to his chest, a hand at my neck. Holding my face up to his, he kisses my forehead, my cheeks, and finally my lips. I'm shattering in his arms, but it's a good shattering. I close my eyes and open my mouth to him, caressing his tongue with my own. Maybe Denine was right, maybe I have been running from myself, from what I am. And maybe you can't outrun yourself. Maybe you shouldn't even try.

As he lays me down, I reach up to hold him, and he freezes, noticing the difference. He kneels above me for a long time, searching my face as if to find what's changed. I drop my shields and pull him into a long embrace, holding him tight against me. He's all I have left of family, all I have left of home. It's time he knew it. It's time I gave up Leskar, revenge and the past, and accepted what's been waiting for me all along, here in his arms.

DEE

When Rhyoh's shields drop, I almost pass out cold at the rush of love and warmth that rolls over me. Is this how I feel to him when I'm open? Gods... This is what it feels like to belong to someone body and soul. This is what love is. And he's finally ready to accept it, to accept the bond, to accept us.

I balance over him again, wanting to make sure that he has no regrets. "Are you sure about this, Rhyoh?"

His beautiful eyes are open and calm - he's not hiding. I can feel his hands on my skin, holding on, holding back. He moves them to my hair, holding my face in his hands. "Yes, Dee. I'm ready to belong to you."

There's nothing left to do but give in to him and receive the one thing I've wanted for the last three years. My life is whole again at last.

RHYOH

I gave in to what I wanted. I welcomed him in, and the world changed. This time when he kissed me, there were no walls between us. There was just his lips on mine - no fear, no running. All the things I finally got to sense, to claim: his deep green eyes, his fingertips on my skin, the taste of tobacco on his lips, the sight of the cool blue moons floating past his shoulders, throwing blue light over his skin. Shuddering, I held him to me; soundlessly, I begged him to enter me - to make me whole. He was worried about hurting me, I know, but the force of the bond being realized at last, for good, overrode what little pain there was. In that moment I was his and he was mine - forever. I cried his name out into the night, knowing I would never call for another.

The next morning, I woke first. He slept wrapped within my arms, breathing peacefully, gently. To think - that peace was what I had been fighting all along. Now, the final piece is in place. I feel whole, complete. I've finally come home. 

DEE

Rhyoh's gone the next morning when I wake up... but he left me a note saying he'd meet me at work. Wait a minute... did we? We did! Throwing off the covers, I scream my naked triumph to the skies. "Woo hoo hoo!!!!!!" No regrets left in my life! As I walk down the stairs half an hour later, I'm actually smiling. Smiling on the way to work! I'm still smiling when darkness finds me.

RHYOH

"Clarion, I need to talk to you," says Commander Russelford, pulling me out of our office. I figure it's about Dee and I brace myself. Sure, he's an hour late, but Brushface... I mean, Russelford, has let him get away with a lot more than that. I follow him into his office and stand waiting,

"Clarion, this isn't going to be easy for you to hear. You may want to sit down."

I blanch. Leskar's threats! "Has something happened to Bikky, sir?"

His face screws up in puzzlement. "The boy you adopted? No, no, he's fine. This is about Lyghtner."

Oh gods, no! I just found him! To lose him now... The Commander must see my shock, because he guides me into a chair. "Easy, Keeper. As far as we know, he's still alive. We're doing everything we can to recover him safely."

"W-what happened?"

"Leskar. He's taken Dee and is demanding we trade Alison back to him in return for him. Now, Randor, you know we don't negotiate with criminals..."

I don't even hear the rest. "It's my fault," I murmur. "I thought he'd go after Bikky... Dee's a Keeper - how?"

"Even Keepers can be caught offguard. We're not sure how they took him or how bad off he is, but we think we can find out. Leskar's asking to talk to you. Are you up to it?"

Caught in memories of all the times I could have killed the man, I can't even answer. And now Dee will die for loving me, die for my weakness. Russelford walks out of the office, shaking his head. He's giving me leave to compose myself, but I can barely breathe.

DEE

I wake to find knives embedded in my chest, my legs. I'm bound to something, but my vision is clouded by a red and black haze. I try to reach for my powers, but fall short. I'm too weak.

Someone flicks one of the knife handles, vibrating the blade. "Interesting thing about healers - how their skin will just heal right up around everything that's done to them. I imagine it will be hell to get those out." I know the voice, but it takes me awhile to place it, to remember it taunting Rhyoh, goading him to fire.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Simple. I don't want my wife to testify against my organization, well, her father's organization, but it will be mine. Your officers have her. I have you."

"They won't make the trade," I tell him, trying for defiance but not quite making it. Defiance would take too much strength.

"They won't, true. But what about Clarion?" He vibrates the knife blade again, making me sick. "You're leverage, you see."

The only thing I can think is better me than Biks. Rhyoh will at least have him.

RHYOH

It's the eighth day of our negotiations with Leskar. He only wanted to speak to me to gloat that he'd made good with his threat. I started punching the comm-screen and got myself sedated, but Dee's still his. I've been sleeping in the station, going out with every crew that's trying to find their location. They've got scramblers on the comm-channel, so it leads to different places every time. I feel certain that he won't allow Dee to live much longer. Then he will have killed all of my family.

I try, again, to plead with Rothschild. "Please, Sir. Give the girl up. Dee's a Keeper - surely he's more important than a case?"

"Clarion, I find it as regretable as you do that Keeper Lyghtner has gotten himself into this situation, but Leskar's organization is responsible for thousands of deaths. We cannot allow your personal attachment to Lyghtner to override that fact."

"Sir, if you're punishing me because Dee is my lover..."

"Keeper, that will be quite enough. Dismissed."

DEE

I've been too weak to try to reach for Rhyoh's mind, and I'm not getting any stronger. I don't even know what all they've done to me, but I'm pretty sure I'm dying. Even healers die. I cast my mind out, ready to say my goodbyes to the only person I've ever really loved. Tears seep out of my eyes at the thought of Penguin, Cal, and the brat, but Rhyoh will have to say those goodbyes for me.

RHYOH

I'm half-asleep on a couch in the station when I feel the moth-flutter of Dee's mind against mine. He pulls me up, over the city, over the canyons created by towers of steel, over the spires and glittering stone. I'm suspended above him when he presses a kiss to my mind; I feel it like lips on my forehead. _I always loved you, partner, but I gotta go. It's my time. _

And then I'm slipping away, falling back into my own body. "Dee!" I cry aloud. "No..."

Alison is behind me; I know she shouldn't be, but I don't even wonder about it. "Bad dream, Keeper?"

I swipe the tears from my cheeks. I don't know how to explain. "It's a... it's a lifebond. My partner, I can feel him."

The knowledge doesn't faze her. "Can you use what you feel to find him?"

The idea sounds absurd, obscene, until I remember that it's exactly what we did before on Stlenskoe. Gods, I've been a fool! I could have found him days ago if only I'd used the bond... but then, I've felt nothing from him in all this time. He must have been sheilding to protect me, to keep me from feeling his pain! "Yes. I think I can... but I think it's too late."

She takes my hand. "I don't think so. Leskar won't let him go without getting something in return. Track your partner - I'll go with you."

"But... but... how did you even get in here?"

"Your Marshall. I told her that I wanted to go back. I don't think she cared as much about me as about you, though. She said that you and your partner have been through too much to lose each other now. Take me to my husband, Keeper."

DEE

"Don't lose him," someone says. I was going somewhere peaceful, somewhere deep and black... but there's light coming through my eyelids now. Someone's pouring something down my throat. Something bites into my arm... but the knives are gone. Gone? I float away into white haze again, and don't return for a long time.

RHYOH

"How did you find them, Clarion?" the Commander asks me as we sit in the waiting room of the medical center, waiting for news of Dee. I try not to think of the burns, cuts, and bruises that adorned his torso when I found him.

JJ, Dragen, Tieg, and Rothschild are looking at me too, waiting for me to answer the question. The official story (courtesy of Denine) is that Alison drugged her guards again and escaped to Leskar's hideout. I just happened to find them both there. "Dee showed me where he was," I tell them. "He was too weak to send much - he wanted to tell me goodbye before he died - but I saw his location in the sending."

They're gaping now, disbelieving. "Let me get this straight," Tieg says. "You're saying Lyghtner can send you images?"

Russelford is less shocked than the other two. "You're bonded to him, then?"

I nod. "Yes, sir." I wonder if I should ask him if we're still allowed to work together, assuming Dee can work again. Dragen and JJ are together now, though, and no one has said anything about separating them.

"Humph," says the Commander. "I guess I was right to partner you up after all. No wonder you make such a good team."

I smile weakly. "Thank you, sir." Everyone else is still staring. I no longer care what they're thinking. Dee is all that matters.

When JJ nudges Rothschild in the ribs and says, "I guess you never really did have a chance, huh?" I actually laugh.

DEE

"I'm perfectly fine," I tell my lover, who stands trembling in the doorway. He's been coming to see me for two weeks, but the first sight always gets to him. I know he's thinking how close we came to losing each other. "Just come in, would you?"

"I brought company," he says, quickly swiping at a stray tear. "They refused to wait 'til you got home."

I smile as Cal and Bikky come into the room, loaded down with food and gifts. "If anyone had ever told me I'd be glad to see the monkey brats..." I say, shaking my head.

"I'd be careful who you compare to a monkey," Cal tells me after kissing my cheek. "That's a sure way to make sure you don't get any fried chicken!"

"I recant," I tell her, reaching for a plate. Leave it to Rhyoh to organize a full-scale hospital picnic.

Bikky perches on the edge of my bed. "Dude, you're missin' all kinds of stuff, being cooped up in here. I have a science project I need help on, and I had to stop playing StarBlasters, 'cause I didn't want to leave you too far in the dust. And I've had to feed your stupid bat!"

I can't help laughing. "How's Ma'at doing?"

"Pretty good," Biks tells me, "but she freaks me out at night, sometimes, y'know? I get up to pee and something comes flappin' out of the dark!"

We share other family gossip: Biks and Cal have a dance coming up, Rothschild and Denine have finally started dating, and Rhyoh's about to be talked into getting a pet. I'm voting for a tortoise myself, Biks wants a dog, and Cal wants a cat. If I know Rhyoh at all, he'd prefer something that stayed in a clean little caged in environment... like a pet rock, for instance.

"So it's been two weeks and you never did tell me what happened with Leskar," I point out over fried chicken and Styrofoam cartons of mashed potatoes.

"Well, after you finally contacted me - were you shielding or what?"

I'm surprised he's openly mentioning this stuff, but Biks and Cal are engrossed in lunch anyway. "Yeah. I didn't want you to feel if... you know."

"Well, I thought I was just an idiot for not being able to track you. Don't ever do that again, huh?"

"Dude, if you think I'm planning on being kidnapped again, you're crazier than I thought."

"Crazy enough to put up with you," he says. He has a point, there. "But anyway, Denine decided to let Alison go without telling the other Keepers or Marshalls, but Alison apparently had a plan of her own. I think she knew Leskar would kill her."

"So she killed him first?" I guess.

"Right. And I found you."

"What happened to her?" I ask, wondering. I had seen from the start that she was unhappy. But then, being married to a monster will do that, I guess.

"Ended up with the head of a rival organization, but I doubt we'll receive invitations to the wedding."

I flick the lilac ring at his neck. "Well, I guess we won't invite them to ours either."

He just smiles and I hear Bikky tell Cal that this is what they'll have to put up with when they move into my place. I raise an eyebrow at Rhyoh. "My place, huh?"

"It's bigger," he points out.

I've got to find a way to hide the fact that I've got tears welling up. I pull him against me. "You scamp! Planning on reorganizing my life when I'm out flat! Some friend you are!"

He can't stop laughing. "Well, I mean, Biks is already feeding the bat - we may as well put everything in one place." He sobers to take my hand. "That is, if you want to. What do you say, Dee Lyghtner, want to move in with me?"

Instead of words I make a soft sound that's like a sob, while Biks and Cal cheer and pummel me with pillows. Rhyoh takes my speechlessness for consent and explains that everything will be settled by the time I leave the hospital.

RHYOH

It took some doing - trying to find out what we had two of, deciding what to keep, what to throw away, and what to store for Bikky when he goes off to college in a couple of years. But now, after two weeks of hard work - even the guys from the station chipped in and helped with the furniture - everything is in place. After a three year battle, I'm home at last.

Dee comes in, panting a little from roughhousing with the kids. "I'm gonna grab something to drink. Want me to get you something?"

"No," I tell him. "Nothing for now."

Something in my voice strikes him. "For now? What do you mean?"

I walk up and draw him closer. "What I mean is that, right now all I want is you beside me."

His green eyes light up. "And this out of my shy heart," he says, kicking the bedroom door closed. "Sounds good, but how about on top instead?"

I can't help laughing as he lays me down on the bed. I guess it doesn't matter how we're together, as long as I'm with Dee for the rest of my life.


End file.
